VILIAN  CLOTHES 


HOMPSON  BUCHANAN 


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flAJOTTKL  FBSWCH,  25  West  4Mb  Streak,  NOT  York  City 
and  Explicit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Hotted  Free  oc 


Civilian  Clothes 

A  COMEDY  IN  THREE  ACTS 

BY 
THOMPSON    BUCHANAN 


COPYRIGHT,  1919,  BY  THOMPSON   BUCHANAN 
COPYRIGHT,  1920,  BY  THOMPSON   BUCHANAN 


All  Rights  Reserved 

CAUTION:  Professionals  and  Amateurs  are  hereby  warned 
that  "CIVILIAN  CLOTHES,"  being  fully  protected  un- 
der the  copyright  laws  of  the  United  States  of  America, 
Great  Britain,  the  Dominion  of  Canada,  and  other  coun- 
tries of  the  world,  is  subject  to  a  royalty,  and  anyone 
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law  provided.  Applications  for  the  amateur  acting  rights 
must  be  made  to  Samuel  French,  25  West  45th  Street, 
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ing rights  must  be  made  to  Alice  Kauser,  1402  Broad- 
way, New  York,  N.  Y. 


NEW  YORK 
SAMUEL  FRENCH 

PUBLISHER 
25  WEST  45TH  STREET 


LONDON 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  LTD. 

26  SOUTHAMPTON  STREET 

STRAND 


"  Civilian  Clothes  " 
All  Rights  Reserved 


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Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America  by 
THE  RICHMOND  HILL  RECORD.  RICHMOND  HILL,  N.  Y. 


CAST  OF  CHARACTERS 
(In  the  order  of  appearance) 

1.  BILLY  ARK  WRIGHT 

Twenty-five,  late  lieutenant,  A.E.F. 

2.  NORA 

Maid. 

3.  GENERAL  MC!NERNY 

U.S.A.,  fifty. 

4.  JACK  RUTHERFORD 

Late  Lieutenant,  N.A. 

5.  FLORENCE  LANHAM 

Twenty-one. 

6.  MRS.  LANHAM 

Fifty-five,  her  mother. 

7.  ELIZABETH 

Twenty,  her  sister.' 

8.  SAM  McGiNNis 

Twenty-seven,  late  Captain  A.E.F.   (winner 
D.S.C  medal). 

9.  MRS.  MARGARET  SMYTHE 

Twenty-nine,  friend  of  the  Lanhams. 
10.  BESSIE  HENDERSON 

Twenty,  friend  of  the  Lanhams. 
n.  ZACK  HART 

Fifty-two. 

12.  MR.  LANHAM 

Florence's  father. 

13.  McGiNNis,  SR. 

14.  BELL  HOP. 


2115135 


SYNOPSIS  OF  SCENES 

ACT  I.     The  Library  of  the  Lanham  home,  Louis- 
ville, Ky. 
ACT  II.     Dining  room  in  the  Lanham  home,  a  month 

later. 
ACT  III.    SCENE  I :  Parlor,  Hotel  Gruenwald,  New 

Orleans,  a  week  later. 
SCENE   II:    Captain   McGinntfs  room, 
Hotel  Gruenwald. 


Civilian  Clothes 

ACT   I 


SCENE  :  The  Lanham  Library  in  Louisville,  Ky. 

A  handsome  old-fashioned  house.  The  room 
looks  out  on  the  smart  street  of  the  town.  Big 
windows  on  the  left,  entrance  from  the  broad 
hall  through  double  doors  center.  Broad  double 
doors  on  R.  covered  with  curtains  lead  into  the 
dining  room.  Outside  in  the  hall  broad  stairs 
can  be  seen  leading  up  to  the  room  above.  These 
must  be  practical,  as  at  times  in  the  action  the\ 
will  be  used.  The  furniture  is  a  mixture  of  the 
old  and  the  new,  as  though  showing  two  ele- 
ments in  the  house.  Mahogany  two  hundred 
years  old  is  mixed  here  and  there  with  smart 
modern  furniture,  making  a  combination  that, 
while  rich  and  comfortable,  would  cause  a  mod- 
ern decorator  to  expire  in  a  delirium  of  horror. 
But  everything  shows  wealth  and  position  and 
every  piece,  taken  individuallv,  is  in  good  taste. 
A  big  broad  divan  is  placed  facing  the  front, 
showing  the  fireplace  is  there.  A  handsome 
screen  U.S.R.  partly  cuts  off  the  room  on  that 
side.  The  deeply  recessed  windows  afford 
cushioned  seats. 

TIME:    A  winter  afternoon  in  1919. 

7 


8  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

DISCOVERED:  At  the  rise,  BILLY  ARKWRIGHT  is  on 
the  stage  alone.  He  is  seated  on  the  divan  fac- 
ing front  before  the  fire,  imagined  to  be  where 
the  footlights  are.  About  him  is  that  "do  or  die" 
air  of  the  man  who  has  come  to  make  a  personal 
proposal  and  is  going  through  with  it  no  matter 
what  happens.  He  is  obviously  nervous.  He 
crosses  and  recrosses  his  legs,  moves  about  on 
the  seat,  rises,  walks  to  and  fro,  obviously  go- 
ing over  a  speech  and  arguments  in  his  mind. 
Reseats  himself  on  the  sofa,  turns  half  side- 
ways, goes  through  pantomime  of  talking  to  im- 
aginary girl.  Talks  to  himself  so  that  the  audi- 
ence must  get  it  from  his  lips,  his  expression,  his 
pantomime,  "Florence,  I  love  you — I've  loved 
you  always — I  want  you  to  marry  me."  He 
pulls  out  his  watch,  looks  at  it  again,  frowns  as 
a  man  well  satisfied,  an.rious  to  have  it  over 
with.  Goes  over,  rings  bell  on  R.,  then  returns 

tO  R.C. 

BILLY  ARKWRIGHT  is  about  twenty-six,  tall, 
dark,  slender  and  handsome.  His  face,  his  fig- 
ure, his  manner  all  show  unmistakably  the 
breeding  that  comes  from  several  hundred  years 
of  gentlemen  ancestors.  He  has  both  the  good 
points  and  the  bad  points  of  his  class  to  a 
marked  degree.  Physically  brave,  honest  and 
honorable,  he  yet  lacks  the  moral  fiber  to  make  a 
real  success  of  his  life  if  he  had  to  do  so.  He 
does  not  think  fast  and  he  cannot  think  deeply, 
but  he  is  courteous.  He  loves  everybody,  and 
everybodv  loirs  him  for  his  nature  and  weak- 
nesses. His  chief  weakness  is  conviviality.  He 
will  drink  with  anybody  and  he  can't  stand 
much. 

NORA  answers  the  bell,  entering  center.  She 
is  an  Irish  woman  in  her  forties,  with  remains  of 
unusual  good  looks  and  the  air  of  the  privileged 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  9 

servant  who  has  been  in  the  family  at  least 
twenty-five  years  and  nursed  the  daughter  of 
the  house.  She  is  thin,  her  face  is  sharp  and  her 
tongue  can  be  sharper  u-hcn  sJie  lets  it  go.  Be- 
tween ARKWRIGHT  and  NORA  is  the  air  of  peo- 
ple ^vho  have  known  each  other  for  years.  NORA 
is  dressed  in  a  maid's  costume. 

BILLY.  (Elaborately  consulting  his  tfatch)  Nora, 
does  it  always  take  young  ladies  just  half  an  hour  to 
dress  ? 

NORA.    No,  sir — sometimes  it  takes  much  longer. 

BILLY.  Humph !  (Scz'ercly)  I've  been  waiting 
on  Miss  Florence  Lanham  exactly  thirty-two  min- 
utes. 

NORA.  Well,  Mr.  Arkwright,  to  my  certain  knowl- 
edge we've  all  been  waiting  on  you  a  couple  of  years. 

BILLY.  (Severely)  Nora,  you  take  base  advan- 
tage of  the  fact  that  once  you  used  to  spank  me. 

NORA.  And  MKs  Florence  too — I  never  knew 
which  of  you  needed  it  the  most.  (Pause.) 

BILLY.    Are  you  sure  Miss  Florence  is  at  home? 

NORA.    Well,  she  always  is  to  you,  sir. 

BILLY.     Oh! 

NORA.    Besides,  I  think  she  was  expecting  you. 

BILLY.  (Quickly — nervously)  What  makes  you 
say  that  ? 

NORA.  Well,  sir,  I've  noticed  ever  since  she  got 
back  from  France,  Miss  Florence  has  been  sort  of — 
er — expecting  something 

BILLY.    Something — er — a — pleasant  ? 

NORA.  Well,  sir,  sometimes  it's  pleasant  and 
sometimes  it  ain't — but  they  all  like  to  have  it  over 
with 

BILLY.     Oh ! 

NORA.  I'll  tell  Miss  Lanham  you  are  waiting,  sir. 
(Turns  to  c.vit  center.) 

BILLY.     Oh,  Nora (Going  up — she  pauses 


io  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

and  half  turns.)  Will  you  fix  it — so — er — we — ah — 
are  not  disturbed? 

NORA.     (Turns,  straight  front,  a  grin  comes  on 

her  face,  she  nods,  he  nods)     I  understand,  sir 

(Gets  to  door,  half  turns,  affectionately)  Good  luck, 
Mr.  Billy — they  all  like  to  have  it  over  with.  (She 
exits  c.) 

(  BILLY  draws  long  breath  of  a  man  setting  himself 
for  an  ordeal.  There  is  a  light  noise  outside 
the  center  door.  Nerving  himself,  BILLY  strides 
to  the  door,  gulps  a  couple  of  times,  prepares  to 
begin  with  a  rush.) 

BILLY.  (As  door  opens,  speaks  with  rush,  L.  of 
door)  Florence,  I've  been  waiting  for 

GEN.  MclNERNY.    For  me,  Mr.  Arkwright  ? 

BILLY.  (Aghast)  Huh!  Not  by  a  darned 
sight !  (Turns  D.C.  in  disgust.) 

(GENERAL  MC!NERNY  is  a  West  Pointer  who  has 
gone  up  fast  on  account  of  the  war.  He  is  a 
man  between  forty-five  and  fifty,  of  average 
height  or  a  trifle  under,  beginning  to  enlarge  a 
little  at  the  waist, — a  smooth-faced,  keen-eyed 
man  of  the  world.  And  like  most  West  Point- 
ers, he  has  a  good  idea  of  the  main  chance  and 
the  advantages  of  the  right  sort  of  marriage. 
It  is  obvious  that  all  the  joy  has  gone  out  of  life 
for  BILLY.  He  comes  down,  sits  disgustedly  L. 
end  of  sofa.  The  GENERAL  looks  at  him  keenly, 
moves  down,  takes  another  chair  R.C.  A  long 
pause.) 

GENERAL.  Do  you  ever  notice,  Mr.  Arkwright, 
the  atmosphere  of  places  ?  Now  I'm  peculiarly  sen- 
sitive to  it. 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  11 

BILLY.  (Grumpy)  Really — I  never  would  have 
guessed  it.  (Pause.) 

GENERAL.  Take  this  Lanham  house,  for  instance. 
— there's  an  atmosphere  about  this  room  that's  un- 
mistakable— an  atmosphere — warmth  of  cordiality — 
why,  IVe  never  entered  the  house  that  I  haven't  felt 
perfectly  at  home. 

BILLY.  I  remember  in  France  you  used  to  tell  us, 
General  Mclnerny,  it  doesn't  take  a  great  deal  to 
make  an  old  field  soldier  feel  at  home. 

GENERAL.  Precisely!  (Pause.  BILLY  glares  at 
his  watch.) 

BILLY.     Forty  minutes ! 

GENERAL.   (Looks  at  his  u*atch)  Just  five  o'clock. 

BILLY.     (Innocently)     Time  for  retreat.  General. 

GENERAL.  Generals  don't  stand  retreat,  Lieuten- 
ant  

BILLY.  (Indicating  his  clothes)  Neither  do  civil- 
ians, General.  (Pause.)  • 

GENERAL.  You've  known  Miss  Lanham  a  long 
time? 

BILLY.  When  the  first  settlers  built  a  fort  on  this 
river  to  keep  away  the  Indians  there  was  a  family 
of  Lanhams  and  a  family  of  Arkwrights. 

GENERAL.     Mayflowers  ? 

BILLY.     No — Virginia. 

GENERAL.  Wonderful  girl,  Miss  Lanham,  ener- 
getic, efficient,  prompt. 

BILLY.    Yes,  prompt — forty-two  minutes. 

GENERAL.  Never  will  I  forget  the  first  time  I  met 

her (BILLY  doesn't  pay  much  attention,  though 

GENERAL  talks  on.  pleased  uith  his  oum  ideas.)  It 
was  at  the  Snn  Mihiel  show 

BILLY.     San  Mihiel  ? 

GENERAL.  Yes,  after  you  had  been  transferred  to 
the  Argonne.  We  were  getting  troops  up  into  po- 
sition before  the  show  started .  I  had  gone  forward 
past  the  Brigade  O.P.  It  was  black  as  your  hat — 


12  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

had  just  gotten  to  one  place  where  there  was  a  shaded 
light  when  who  should  I  find  there  but  a  girl  handing 
out  hot  chocolate  to  the  doughboys  as  they  came  by. 
It  was  Miss  Lanham. 

BILLY.    Flo! 

GENERAL.  She  was  a  Red  Cross  canteen  girl,  but 
that  wasn't  exciting  enough,  I  suppose,  for  there  she 
was,  right  up  almost  in  the  front  line,  with  a  Salva- 
tion Army  get-up,  handing  out  chocolate  to  the  boys. 
Any  man  would  fight  when  he  saw  women  like  that, 
you  know 

BILLY.    You  did  not  let  her  stay,  did  you? 

GENERAL.  Of  course  not — ordered  her  back  in  a 
hurry.  (Pause — chuckles.)  Found  out  afterwards 
she  didn't  go ! 

BILLY.  Just  like  Flo — I  never  could  make  her  do 
anything 

GENERAL.  Wonderful  girl!  (Pause.)  Wonder- 
ful wife  for  some  lucky  man 

BILLY.  (Rises — looks  at  the  GENERAL  with  sud- 
den alarm  and  suspicion — the  GENERAL  shifts  un- 
comfortably) Now  I  know  what  you're  here  for — 

GENERAL.     Nothing  of  the  sort 

BILLY.  Oh,  yes,  it  is — all  dressed  up  in  your  new 
uniform  and  all  your  decorations — you're  here  to- 
day to  propose  to  her 

GENERAL.     Ridiculous ! 

BILLY.    (Moving  L.J    I  agree  with  you. 

GENERAL.  (Crosses  to  L.J  Well,  really,  Mr.  Ark- 
wright,  since  you  take  that  tone  I  don't  see  what 
would  be  so  ridiculous  about  a  proposal  by  me. 

BILLY.  (Turning  to  GENERAL)  Florence  Lan- 
ham's  not  the  girl  to  waste  herself  on  an  old  man. 

GENERAL.  (Facing  BILLY,  front  of  sofa)  Waste 
herself!  Indeed!  While  I  do  not  think  this  sort  of 
discussion  is  the  best  taste,  still,  since  you  have 
forced  it,  I  must  say  that  I  consider  Miss  Lanham 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  13 

too  intelligent  a  lady  to  throw  herelf  away  on  a 
young  whippersnapper 

BILLY.  (Going  to  c.  in  front  of  sofa)  Declare 
yourself — are  you  or  aren't  you? 

GENERAL.    Why,  I — I 

BILLY.  Well,  if  you  won't  declare  yourself,  I 
will.  I  came  here  to  propose  this  afternoon.  Now 
give  me  a  chance. 

GENERAL.  (Crossing  to  R.C. — pause)  Well,  since 
you  are  so  bold  about  the  matter,  Mr.  Arkwright, 
I'll  be  equally  frank — that  is  what  I  came  for  this 
afternoon.  (They  look  at  each  other.  Pause.) 

BILLY.  (Suggestively — sits  L.  end  of  sofa)  I  was 
here  first. 

GENERAL.     But  I  would  suggest  in  view  of 

BILLY.  Nothing  doing — that  "age  before  beauty" 
stuff  don't  go  with  me.  (Both  sit  obstinately.) 

(GENERAL  sits  R.  end  of  sofa — long  pause.) 

GENERAL.  See  here,  young  man,  doesn't  it  strike 
you  we  are  acting  like  a  couple  of  asses?  (They 
turn  and  look  at  each  other.) 

BILLY.     Speak  for  yourself,  General. 

GENERAL.     But  if  we  both  stay 

BILLY.    I'll  match  you 

GENERAL.  You're  on (They  rise,  saving 

around  to  R.  and  L.  end  of  table.  Each  produces  a 
coin,  stand  at  the  table  just  back  of  the  divan.  As 
they  put  their  coins  doum)  May  the  best  man  win ! 

BILLY.     May  I  win! 

GENERAL.    We'll  see 

JOHN  RUTHERFORD,  (c.  at  the  door)  Hello— 
everybody 

GENERAL.     Lord ! 

(JOHN  RUTHERFORD  is  tall,  clean-cut,  good-looking, 
good  manners,  good  clothes,  twenty-five,  and 


I4  CIVILIAN   CLOTHES 

thinks  on  Tuesdays,  sometimes.    Comes  down — 
takes  in  picture.) 

RUTHERFORD.    Matching  ?    May  I  get  in  ? 

BILLY.  Don't  know (Looking  at  GENERAL.) 

Say,  Rutherford,  when  was  the  last  time  you  pro- 
posed to  Flo? 

RUTHERFORD.  You've  got  your  nerve  asking 
that! 

BILLY.  Isn't  he  an  ass  ?  You  know,  every  fellow 

in  the  town  takes  Flo  like  the  measles When 

was  it  ?  Last  week  ?  (RUTHERFORD  hesitates,  shakes 
his  head.)  When? 

RUTHERFORD.  (Hesitates)  Well — well — I  haven't 
seen  her  since  yesterday- 


BILLY.     You  belong  in- 


RUTHERFORD.  (Putting  down  his  money)  Let 
me  get  this — what  are  we  matching  for  ? 

BILLY.  Odd  man  wins — the  other  two  get  out  and 
give  him  a  chance 

RUTHERFORD.    They  don't  quit  for  good  ? 

BILLY.     No.  for  this  afternoon 

RUTHERFORD.  Oh,  I  can  ask  tomorrow  just  as 
well 

(Position — GENERAL  L.  of  table,  RUTHERFORD  bock 
of  table,  BILLY  R.  of  table.) 

BILLY.  Yes,  it  might  be  a  good  idea  to  give  her  a 
day's  rest.  Everybody  down —  (Nods — they  put 
coins  d(nvn.)  Everybody  up !  (All  lift  hands.) 

RUTHERFORD.    Heads — 

GENERAL.     Heads 

BILLY.     Heads — confound  it! 

FLORENCE  LAN  HAM.  (At  the  door)  I  hope  I 

didn't  keep  anybody  waiting (All  grab  their 

coins  and  look  innocent.) 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  15 

BILLY.      (Looks  at  watch)     Fifty  minutes,  and 
then  comes  a  minute  too  soon 

(FLORENCE  LAN  HAM  is  twenty-one,  about  five  feet 
four  inches,  with  fair  hair  and  blue  eyes.  One's 
first  impression  is  "What  an  unusually  beauti- 
ful person."  To  the  ordinary  observer  this  im- 
pression of  beauty,  of  self-possession,  of  assur- 
ance continues,  but  the  discriminating  man  finds 
something  disturbing.  Proud,  impatient  of  re- 
straint, impulsive,  lovable,  and  withal  possessed 
of  tremendous  nervous  energy,  hers  is  a  crowded 
single-track  mind  which  makes  of  her  life  a 
scries  of  rear-end  collisions.  When  the  inevit- 
able obstacle  that  should  have  been  foreseen 
arises  she  is  apt  to  blame  fate  and  override  it 
rather  than  herself  and  try  to  get  around  it.  She 
has  never  had  anything  she  did  not  want  fero- 
ciously and  never  gotten  anything  she  did  not 
tire  of  immediately.  Position,  training,  wealth 
Jiave  conspired  to  make  her  a  snob,  but  she  hates 
snobs  when  she  knows  them.  Withal  there  is 
tremendous  happiness  in  store  for  her  and  the 
right  man  who  shall  conquer  her.) 

FLO.  (As  the  men  leave  the  table)  This  is  jolly ! 
Awfully  nice  of  you  to  drop  in.  (Gives  right  hand 
to  GENERAL — left  hand  to  RUTHERFORD — nods  to 
BILLY.  BILLY  takes  his  own  left  hand  with  his  right 
— shakes  it.) 

BILLY.    Charmed,  I'm  sure. 

GENERAL.  (Very  much  the  courtier,  to  R.c.J  You 
are  always  worth  waiting  for,  Miss  Lanham. 

FLO.    Thank  you,  General.    (Sit  L.  end  of  settee.) 

RUTHERFORD.    You  certainly  came  just  in  time. 

FLO.     Why? 

RUTHERFORD.    Well,  two  of  us  were  about  to  go. 

FLO.    Which  two? 


16  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

BILLY.  (Promptly)  Jack  and  General  Mcln- 
erny.  (The  two  show  hostility.) 

RUTHERFORD.     Me  ? 

GENERAL.     Nothing  of  the  sort. 

FLO.  I  should  say  not!  You  are  all  to  stay  for 
tea — I've  already  ordered  it ! 

(NoRA  appears,  rolling  in  tea-table,  from  door  R. 
Rolls  it  down  beside  divan  in  front  of  group. 
She  tries  to  pantomime  io  BILLY  that  it's  not 
her  fault  and  she  is  for  him.) 

FLO.  You  needn't  wait,  Nora.  (NoRA,  leaving 
tea-wagon,  crosses  to  R.  and  exits  'ig'y- 

FLO  looks  from  one  to  the  other.)  Nora  is  an  old 
dear,  you  know,  but  she's  spoiled  utterly.  (She  sits 
L.  end  of  sofa,  begins  to  serve  tea.)  If  I  allowed 
her  to  stay  she  would  at  least  be  telling  you,  Gen- 
eral, what  she  thinks  of  the  Army,  and  putting  Billy 
in  his  place. 

GENERAL.  I'd  rather  like  to  see  someone  put  Mr. 
Arkwright  in  his  place.  (Sits  R.c.J 

BILLY.  (L.  of  FLO,  standing)  Nora  can.  Re- 
member, Flo,  the  time  she  caught  me  kissing  you 
and  spanked  you  for  leading  me  into  temptation? 

FLO.  I  remember  nothing.  Cream  or  lemon, 
General  ? 

GENERAL.     Lemon. 

(FLO  puts  rum  in  tea  and  passes  cup  to  GENERAL. 
JACK  RUTHERFORD  returns  and  sits  R.  of  FLO. 
While  FLO  fixes  cup  for  RUTHERFORD — ) 

GENERAL.  Are  all  your  servants  down  here  old 
retainers?  For  instance,  that  very  imposing  butler 
I've  seen — with  the  knee  breeches  and  silk  stock- 
ings ? 

FLO.     Knee  breeches — that's  a  fad  of  mother's. 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  17 

No,  indeed — but  Father  discovered  he  was  a  slacker 
and  discharged  him  on  the  spot.  Now  that  the  war 
is  over,  however,  we  are  looking  forward  to  the  joys 
of  competent  men-servants  once  more.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  I  notified  the  agency  to  send  some  today. 

RUTHERFORD.     Should  be  plenty  of  ex-soldiers — 

BILLY.  Imagine — after  charging  machine-euns.  to 
come  back  to  passing  the  soup !  f  tell  you.  Flo,  ad- 
vertise— "Wanted,  one  butler,  only  D.S.C.  men  need 
apply."  (Takes  cup  from  FLO.) 

GENERAL.  And  if  the  dinner  is  dull  he  can  re- 
gale us  with  his  adventures. 

FLO.  (Mischievously)  Oh,  you  think  my  din- 
ners dull,  General? 

GENERAL.    No — none  of  that — certainly  not. 

FLO.  (Judicially)  The  tone  is  doubtful.  I  see 
I'll  have  to  convince  you — we'll  make  it  a  week 
from  tonight 

RUTHERFORD.     Make  what? 

FLO.     Dinner,  of  course — all  of  you 

THE  MEN.  Thanks,  splendid— I'll  come— I'll  be 
here,  all  right.  (A  long  pause — the  men  settle  back, 
determined  to  stay.) 

BILLY.  (Luxuriously — leaninp  back  on  chair,  L. 
of  sofa)  I  could  sit  here  all  night — (The  GENERAL 
and  RUTHERFORD  look  at  him) — and  then  some  .  .  . 

GENERAL.  (Rising  and  crossing  to  R. — hands 
RUTHERFORD  cup)  Going  my  way.  Mr.  Rutherford? 

RUTHERFORD.  (Indignant)  Say.  I'm  no  kitchen 
police.  (Hesitates.)  You  going  to  stay,  William? 

BILLY.  Till  the  last  lone  man  retires — and  don't 
call  me  William. 

RUTHERFORD.  (Turns  to  FLO)  Er — a — by  the 
way,  Flo — remember  what  we  were  discussing  yes- 
terday ? 

(BiLLY    sits    bolt    upright — the    GENERAL     turns 
sharply.) 


18  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FLO.    (Startled)    Y— ^e— s! 

RUTHERFORD.  (Looking  toward  FLO)  Any  chance 
of  changing  your  mind  ? 

FLO.    (Shakes  her  head)    No — Jack. 

BILLY.     (To  RUTHERFORD)     Good  night! 

FLO.  (To  GENERAL)  General,  won't  you  have 
another  cup  ? 

BILLY.    No,  they  don't  care  for  any 

GENERAL.  Well,  I'll  be (FLO  hastens  to  him 

— they  talk  in  pantomime.) 

RUTHERFORD.  (Cheerfully)  Well — see  you  to- 
morrow. (Starts  as  though  to  exit — stops,  turns  to 
BILLY,  who  is  taking  tea-wagon  up  to  L.  corner,  and 
who  is  grinning  at  RUTHERFORD.)  You  needn't 
grin.  Fifty  you  don't  put  it  over,  either. 

BILLY.     Go  hang  yourself! 

FLO.    I'll  be  delighted  to  go.  General. 

(GENERAL  shakes  hands — starts  out  with  a  bare  nod 
to  BILLY — who  grins  at  him  fearfully.  FLO 
conies  down  R.C.  BILLY  down  L.  end  of  sofa.) 

RUTHERFORD.  (Taking  GENERAL'S  arm  as  they 
go  out)  General.  I  would  just  like  to  make  a  little 
bet 'with  you — I've  a  better  chance  than  you  have 
right  now.  (They  exit.) 

(FLO  turns  to  BILLY,  and  they  look  at  each  other.  It 
comes  over  him  that  the  time  for  proposing  has 
arrived.  She  is  cool — friendly — BILLY  looks  at 
her — is  suddenly  panic-stricken.  She  sits.  A 
long  pause.) 

FLO.  (R.  of  sofa — after  appreciable  pause — with 
rising  inflection)  Well? 

BILLY.  (L.  of  sofa)  Er — a — quite  well,  thank 
you.  (Another  pause.  After  it  has  become  pro- 
nounced— ) 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  19 

FLO  and  BILLY.  (Simultaneously)  But 

Flo (Turning  to  each  other  simultaneously.) 

BILLY.  (Both  stop — he  moves  toward  her  on  the 
sofa)  I  beg  your  pardon.  You  were  saying 

FLO.  I  wasn't  saying  anything (Another 

pause.)  What's  the  matter,  Billy? 

BILLY.  Nothing — absolutely  nothing.  What  makes 
you  think  anything  is  the  matter  ? 

FLO.     (Severely)     Have  you  had  a  drink? 

BILLY.  (From  the  bottom  of  his  heart)  No,  but 
I  need  a  dozen 

FLO.  Poor  boy — I'll  get  you  some  tea . 

(Rises.) 

BILLY.  No.  ( With  determination.)  I  am  going 
to  do  this  on  my  own. 

FLO.     (Sits)     Do  what? 

BILLY.     What  I'm (Pauses.) 

FLO.  Poor  Billy  boy (Reaches  over  in 

friendly  fashion — puts  her  'hand  on  his.)  Come,  tell 
Mother  all  about  it 

BILLY.  (Shaking  her  hand  off,  resenting  her 
friendly,  superior  air)  I  wish  you  wouldn't — I 
don't  want  to  be  treated  this  way 

FLO.  (Playing  writh  him — again  putting  her  hand 
on  his)  Oh.  how  do  you  want  to  be  treated? 

BILLY.  Like — like (Desperately)  Oh,  Flo, 

can't  you  help  a  fellow  out? 

FLO.  Certainly.  Now  what  have  you  been  do- 
ing? 

BILLY.    And  I  thought  it  would  be  so — easy. 

FLO.  (Encouragingly)  Anything  is  easy  if  you 
really  set  your  mind  to  it.  Do  like  you  used  to  do 
when  you  took  medicine.  Shut  your  eyes  and  do  it. 
Come,  now.  Tell  mother  all  about  it. 

BILLY.  (Drshcratelv  shuts  h>s  eves — holding  her 
hand  in  both  of  his)  Flo — will  vou — will  you — be 
my — mother? 

FLO.    (Taking  her  hand  aivay)    Billy! 


20  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

BILLY.     No,  I Will  you  be  my ? 

FLO.     Billy,  I  believe  you're  in  love. 

BILLY.  What  did  you  think  I  had — a  pain  in  my 
tummy?  (Pause.)  Well,  say  something. 

FLO.     I  don't  know  what  to  say. 

BILLY.  Nonsense !  You  were  never  in  that  fix  in 
your  life ! 

FLO.  (She  is  obviously  disturbed,  but  plainly  she 
is  interested,  even  believes  herself  in  love,  but  some- 
thing is  holding  her  back,  making  her  try  to  avoid 
BILLY'S  proposal)  Do  I — do  I  understand,  Billy, 
you  are  trying  to  ask ? 

BILL.  (Takes  her  hand)  Flo,  I  want  to  marry 
you 

FLO.  (Teasing  to  cover  her  own  feelings)  Oh, 
I'm  sure  your  intentions  are  noble 

BILLY.  (Piteously)  Please,  Flo,  stop  teasing 
me 

FLO.     (With  genuine  regret  and  feeling)    Billy — 

BILLY.  (Taking  her  hand  again)  Say,  yes, 
dear. 

FLO.    I — I  wish  I  could,  Billy. 

BILLY.  (In  surprise,  horror  and  misery)  Flo, 
you  don't  mean  that- 


FLO.     I  can't,  Billy,  I  just  can't 

BILLY.     Why  ? 

FLO.     Don't  ask  me  that. 

BILLY.  (In  the  violent  emotion  of  his  love  and 
the  feeling  of  a  man  crossed  the  first  time  in  his  life 

— rise)  Don't You  think  I'm  going  to  let  you 

turn  me  down  without  finding  out  why?  (His  an- 
ger and  force  move  her  much  more  than  his  plead- 
ing. Then  feeling  he  hasn't  been  a  gentleman,  he 
weakens.)  Forgive  me — I  don't  mean  to  talk  that 
way,  but Oh,  Flo,  can't  you  see  this  is  every- 
thing to  me? 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  21 

FLO.     (With  sympathy)     Billy ! 

BILLY.  Everything,  Flo — why,  ever  since  we  were 
kids  I've  never  thought  of  any  one  but  you.  There 
hasn't  been  a  time  since  I  can  remember  that  I 
haven't  looked  forward  to  that  day  when  we  would 
be  married. 

FLO.  (Moved — speaking  softly)  Yes — I  used  to 
think  so  too 

BILLY.  (Sit)  We  both  thought  so  all  our  lives — 
why,  we  can't  remember  when  we  weren't  sweet- 
hearts. 

FLO.     (Weakly)     Billy,  don't 

BILLY.  Everybody  that  knows  us  expects  us  to 
be  married 

FLO.    I  can't  marry  you  now — I  just  can't. 

BILLY.     Why? 

FLO.    There's  a  reason 

BILLY.  Oh,  darn  that  Munyon  stuff!  Is  it  be- 
cause I've  been  a  bit  wild,  Flo?  I'll  cut  it  out. 
Honestly  I  will — I've  never  been  as  bad  as  I've  been 
painted  and  if  you'll  take  me  I'll  cut  out  everything 
—I'll  be  the  good  little  man  who  brings  the  steak 
home  under  his  arm  three  hundred  and  sixty-five 
days  in  the  year- 


FLO.    (Amused  and  softly)    You  dear  boy- 


BILLY.  I'll  be  your  slave,  Flo — I'll  do  anything — 

everything  you  want  me  to (She  looks  at  him, 

but  he  docs  not  realize  that  he  is  on  the  wrong  track.) 

FLO.  I  don't  want  you  to  do  anything,  Billy — no 
man  gets  a  woman  by  doing  anything  for  her! 
(Pause.) 

BILLY.  (With  sudden  suspicion  releases  her  hand) 
You  didn't  fall  in  love  or  make  any  promise  to  any 
man  you  met  over  there,  did  you  ? 

FLO.  (Her  armor  penetrated — gasps  guiltily, 
stalls)  What  an  absurd  idea! 

BILLY.    I  should  think  so — you  aren't  the  kind  of 


22  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

girl  to  become  interested  in  any  man  you  didn't  know 

all  about (When  he  is  not  looking  she  sweeps 

him  with  one  glance  that  shoves  how  little  he  really 
knows  her.) 

FLO.  (Her  words  contradicting  her  looks)  Of 
course  not 

BILLY.  After  all,  what  could  you  know  about  a 
man  you  just  met  in  France? 

FLO.  (Eagerly)  Yes,  they  do  all  look  alike,  don't 
they — in  uniform? 

BILLY.  But  when  they  get  out (Whistles.) 

Some  of  our  best  officers  will  be  our  leading  barbers 
and  truck  drivers.  And  then  some  silly  girls  will 
have  an  awakening. 

FLO.  (Her  head  high)  Can  you  imagine  me  be- 
coming interested  in  anyone  not  well  born.  Billy? 

BILLY.  (Takes  her  hand  again)  Hardly!  The 
Lanhams  aren't  that  way.  (Pause.)  Oh.  why  can't 
you  love  me,  Flo?  Give  me  some  reason — at  least, 
I'm  a  gentleman. 

(Throughout  the  whole  scene  FLO  must  have  shown 
that  she  has  been  powerfully  moved — that  she 
believes  she  loves  him  and  several  times  she  has 
wanted  to  go  to  him,  but  has  been  held  back  by 
some  strong  reason.) 

FLO.  (Obviously  casting  about  -for  a  reason)  I 
reckon  that's  it,  Billy — you  were  always  too  much 
the  gentleman. 

BILLY.  (In  amazement)  Too  much  the  gentle- 
man? 

FLO.  Yes — you've  always  been  just  that — my 
slave.  You've  never  made  me  do  anything — a  wo- 
man has  to  be  made  to  do  things,  Billy.  Don't  you 
understand?  Oh,  a  lot  of  suffragettes  can  preach  to 
the  end  of  time,  but  that  doesn't  alter  Nature,  and 
when  I  hear  one  of  them  declaring,  "No  man  ever 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  23 

made  me  do  anything,"  I  always  feel  like  saying, 
"Yes,  but  don't  you  wish  he  had?"  And  face  to 
face  with  her  own  soul,  if  she's  a  regular  woman, 
every  time  she'll  say,  "Yes." 

BILLY.  (The  idea  sinking  in — in  amazement) 
Has  anybody  ever  made  you  do  anything,  Flo  ? 

FLO.     (After  a  pause — softly)     Yes. 

BILLY.     Who  was  he? 

FLO.     That  doesn't  matter — now. 

BILLY.    (Jealously)    What  was  it  ?   Where  was  it  ? 

FLO.     It  was  at  San  Mihiel 

BILLY.     (Exclaiming)     The  General ! 

FLO.  (Impatiently)  Oh,  goodness,  no!  The 
General  couldn't  make  anybody  do  anything ! 

BILLY.     (Relieved)     Oh! 

FLO.  It  was  the  morning  of  the  attack — I'd  got- 
ten up  near  the  front  and  was  putting  out  hot  choco- 
late to  the  boys.  The  General  ordered  me  back,  but 
I  slipped  around  out  of  his 'sight  and  kept  on.  The 
shells  were  coming  over  pretty  fast  when  some  of 
.  fantry  marched  past  to  take  position.  I  offered 
a  cup  of  chocolate  to  a  Captain.  He  passed  it  on  to 
one  of  his  men,  then  asked  me  how  I  got  there.  I 
told  him  I  walked,  and  he  said  I  better  walk  back 
again.  I  laughed  at  him.  Next  he  ordered  me  back. 
I  refused  to  go.  Then  he  called  me  a  plucky  little 
fool,  boxed  my  ears  as  though  I'd  been  a  naughty 
child,  and  sent  me  to  the  rear,  crying  with  rage,  my 
head  ringing  and  a  soldier  holding  each  elbow. 

BILLY.     (Savagely)     He  struck  you! 

FLO.  Hard!  I  don't  believe  he  realized  his 
strength. 

BILLY.     The  cowardly  brute — who  was  he? 

FLO.  (Strong  feeling  showing  through  her  words) 
He  was — a  man ! 

BILLY.  And  you  said  you  weren't  interested  in 
anybody.  What's  his  name? 


24  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FLO.     That  doesn't  matter. 

BILLY.    Well,  it  does  matter.    I'll 

FLO.    There's  nothing  you  can  do — now. 

BILLY.     Why? 

FLO.  (Simply)  He's  dead.  (Pause.)  With  a 
Distinguished  Service  Cross (Pause.) 

BILLY.     For  boxing  your  ears  ? 

FLO.  For  extraordinary  heroism  in  capturing  a 
machine  gun  and  killing  five  Germans  single-handed. 
You  see,  he  didn't  limit  himself  to  striking  women. 

BILLY.  All  the  same  he  was  a  big,  rough-necked 
brute! 

FLO.  But  don't  you  wish  you'd  done  it?  All  of 
it,  Billy — even  boxing  my  ears  ? 

BILLY.    There's  been  lots  of  times  I  wanted  to — 

FLO.  (Turns  to  him)  I  wish  you  had.  Oh, 
Billy,  why  didn't  you  make  me  love  you?  Why 
didn't  you  make  me  marry  you  before  you  went  over 
there  ?  It  would  have  saved  me  so  much ! 

BILLY.  (Takes  her  hand)  I — I  wanted  to,  Flo — 
but  I — I'm  not  making  any  grand-stand  play,  but — 
well — I  thought  I  might  get  knocked  off  over  there 
and  it  wouldn't  be  fair  to  you 

FLO.  As  though  a  woman  ever  asked  a  man  to 
be  fair  when  she  loved  him ! 

BILLY.     (Eagerly)    You  did  love  me? 

FLO.    Yes,  Billy,  I  thought  I  did. 

BILLY.  Then  I'll  make  you  certain  of  it — I'll 
make  you  love  me  if  I  have  to  beat  you  three  times 
a  day! 

(She  is  closer  to  him  than  she  has  been  yet,  half- 
amused,  half -wistful,  wholly  moved — puts  her 
hand  on  his — softly.) 

FLO.    Billy,  I 

(Feeling  she  is  about  to  yield,  BILLY  turns  to  her 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  25 

impulsively,  just  as  MRS.  LAN  HAM  enters,  ac- 
companied by  ELIZABETH  LANHAM.  MRS. 
LANHAM  is  short,  she  is  fat,  she  is  handsome 
with  the  distinction  and  the  manner  that  it  is 
popularly  supposed  takes  three  generations  to 
acquire.  She  has  more  than  a  fair  appreciation 
of  the  honor  it  will  be  to  any  man  to  become 
her  son-in-law  and  she  is  determined  to  choose  a 
son-in-law  worthy  of  her.  Moreover,  she  has 
never  forgotten  that  she  was  once  a  great  beauty 
and  that  she  made  a  worthy  marriage.  She  is 
about  sixty  years  old,  ineliaible  young  men  have 
been  known  to  call  her  "The  Dragon,"  but  she 
does  not  know  many  ineligible  young  men.  She 
is  absolutely  without  humor. 

(ELIZABETH  LANHAM  is  what  her  mother 
was  at  twenty-five  and  she  will  be  her  mother 
over  again  when  she  reaches  that  age. 

(Both  MRS.  LANHAM  and  ELIZABETH  are 
dressed  for  the  street  and  have  evidently  just 
come  in.  Both  take  in  the  situation  at  a  glance 
and  their  mutual  delight  shows  that  both  com- 
pletely misunderstand  it.) 

ELIZABETH.  (Gaily)  What  did  I  tell  you,  Mother? 
There  they  are — wooing  and  scallawagging 

BILLY.  (Rises — jumps  to  his  feet  guiltily)  Don't 
you  believe  it,  Mrs.  Lanham.  I  am  wooing,  all 
right,  but  Flo  is  doing  the  scallawagging 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (Completely  misunderstanding — 
comes  down  to  divan)  I'm  sure  it  wasn't  very  seri- 
ous scallawagging — and  I  know  you've  both  made 
me  very  happy.  (Kisses  FLO — holds  out  left  hand 
to  BILLY.J 

FLO.    (Gasps)    Mother ! 

(BILLY'S  face  grows  tragically  blank.    FLO  sees  the 
unfortunate  position  he  is  in.) 


26  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

MRS.  LAN  HAM.    Don't  say  a  word.     My  mother 

caught  your  father  and  me  the  same  way — we  were 

married  very  shortly  afterwards. 

BILLY.     (Starts  to  speak)     But,  Mrs.  Lanham — 
FLO.      (Quickly,   with   assumed   gayety)      Don't 

spoil  mother's  good  time  by  telling  her.    She'd  rather 

guess  the  secret. 

( BILLY  gives  her  a  quick,  thankful  look,  turns  to  L. 
ELIZABETH  gets  to  back  of  table  c.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (i^.c.)  Guess?  It  wasn't  much 
of  a  guess. 

FLO.    (c.)    No,  it  wasn't. 

ELIZABETH.  (R.)  Should  say  not !  Perfectly  ob- 
vious. (To  BILLY)  Wasn't  it? 

BILLY.  (Flustered — L.J  Yes — yes — s'pose  so 

(Grins  from  one  to  the  other.) 

ELIZABETH.  Do  I  kiss  Billy — under  the  circum- 
stances ? 

BILLY.  Does  she  kiss  me,  Flo — under  the  circum- 
stances? 

FLO.     I  was 

ELIZABETH.  (Comes  over — kisses  BILLY — sin- 
cerely) I'm  awfully  glad — honest.  We've  all  been 
waiting  on  you  and  Sis  such  a  long  time. 

FLO.     Elizabeth!    (MRS.  LANHAM  R.c.J 

BILLY.     Have  you  ? 

FLO.    It's  time  Billy  was  going 

ELIZABETH.  Billy,  what  makes  you  so  flustered? 

And  Sis — why,  both  of  you (Looks  from  one 

to  the  other,  puzzled. ) 

BILLY.  (Obviously,  greatly  embarrassed — he  is 
embarrassed  for  FLO — she  for  him)  I'm  not  flus- 
tered. 

FLO.  (With  deadly  calm)  Perhaps,  Bess,  you'd 
be  flustered  if (Stops  short.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.     (Who  hasn't  paid  much  atten- 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  27 

tion)  I  think  that's  very  sensible — a  short  engage- 
ment  

ELIZABETH.  And  a  pink  wedding — when?  (She 
looks  from  one  to  the  other.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.    I  think 

FLO.     I  know  Billy  must  be  going.     Come,  Billy ! 

ELIZABETH.    We'll  settle  this  first — when  ? 

FLO.     Never ! 

ELIZABETH  and  MRS.  LATHAM.    Never?    Why — 

FLO.  Yes,  never!  You  two  walked  in  here  and 
just  jumped  at  a  conclusion  you  both  desired — 
that's  all.  Billy  and  I  are  not  engaged,  and,  as  far 
as  I  know,  haven't  the  slightest  intention  of  becom- 
ing engaged. 

ELIZABETH.     Well ! 

MRS.  LANHAM.  But — but — I  saw (With 

slight  suspicion)  You — you  mean  you  were  just — 

FLO.  Scallawagging,  Mother — scallawagging.  (She 
sits.  MRS.  LANHAM  is  horror  stricken.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (With  decision)  I  don't  believe 
it 

BILLY.  You're  right,  Mrs.  Lanham — I  was  pro- 
posing to  Flo  and 

ELIZABETH.  And  he  didn't  get  a  chance  to  fin- 
ish   (Goes  into  laughter — crosses  up  c.)  Come, 

Mother. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (Shocked  to  the  bottom  of  her 
conventional  soul)  Elizabeth!  (To  others)  Aw- 
fully sorry — terribly  stupid — but — well Come, 

Elizabeth,  I  think  we  had  better  leave  the  children — 
(Moves  to  go.  FLO  signals  to  let  them  go.  BILLY 
won't.) 

BILLY.  Wrong  again,  Mrs.  Lanham — she  refused 
me. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Re — wh (Turns  about  and 

fits  down  R.C. — slowly,  with  great  dignity — flatly) 
Well,  will  somebody  tell  me  the  meaning  of  this? 


28  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FLO.  I  can't  very  well  marry  Billy  if  I  don't  love 
him,  Mother. 

MRS.  LAX  HAM.  (To  FLO)  Then  what  do  you 
mean  by  waiting  so  long  to  break  his  heart? 

ELIZABETH.  (Coming  doivn  between  chair  L.C. 
and  sofa)  Everybody  is  expecting  it  of  you,  Flo — 
at  least,  you  might  be  accommodating. 

FLO.  (Looks  over  her  shoulder)  Well,  Sis,  why 
don't  you  marry  him? 

ELIZABETH.  (Startled,  but  the  idea  is  evidently 
not  as  distasteful  as  it  might  be)  Me ! 

BILLY.  (At  same  time — involuntary  horror) 
Good  L I  be?  your  pare" 

ELIZABETH.  (With  wounded  dignity)  I  don't 
think  I  can  add  anything  to  the  discussion.  (Exits 
R.U. — her  feelings  miffed.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.  But,  Florence,  you  must  be  mar- 
ried sometime 

FLO.     Not  necessarily. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (Horrified  to  the  depths  of  her 

soul)  Good  gracious — I  never (Stops,  aghast, 

just  as  MR.  LANHAM  enters,  centre  R.u.J 

MR.  LAXFAM.  (Coming  down  L.  of  MRS.  LAN- 
HAM)  Hello!  Elizabeth  said  you  needed  me, 
Mother 

(MR,  ARCHIBALD  LAXHAM  is  tall,  slender,  with 
white  hair  and  a  keen,  patrician,  smooth  face 
that  shows  intelligence,  humor,  and  a  funda- 
mental kindly  outlook  on  life  and  its  foibles.  It 
is  the  viewpoint  of  a  man  looking  down  on  his 
fellowmen.  He  has  inherited  wealth  and  ac- 
quired more  through  the  practice  of  his  profes- 
sion— lawyer.  Therefore,  to  the  pride  of  birth 
and  wealth  is  added  the  pride  of  achievement. 
If  any  one  told  him  he  was  a  snob  he  would  un- 
hesitatingly admit  it  and  justify  it.) 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  29 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Needed  you!  Father!  (Tragi- 
cally) Archibald,  your  daughter  is  going  to  be  an 
old  maid 

MR.  LANHAM.  Why  the  emphasis — my  daugh- 
ter? 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (Sharply)  Because  no  daughter 
of  mine  would  be  such  a  fool 

BILLY.     I  think  I'll  say  good-bye. 

FLO.  (Grabs  his  arm  and  pulls  him  down  on 
sofa — in  alarm)  Billy,  don't  leave  me  with  them — 

( BILLY,  with  hope,  instantly  and  obviously  decides 
not  to  go — sits  on  divan  beside  her.) 

MR.  LANHAM.  Possibly,  Mother,  if  you  leave 
this  to  me  I  can  get  to  the  bottom  of  it. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (With  obvious  unbelief)  Pos- 
sibly— but  I  don't  think  so. 

FLO.  There's  nothing  to  get  to  the  bottom  of. 
Billy  just  asked  me  to '- 

MR.  LANHAM.    Good!     (Judicially.) 

FLO.  But,  Dad,  all  this  concerns  Billy  and  me.  I 
don't  see  how  this  is  any  business  of  yours  and 
mother's. 

MR.  LANHAM.  Granted,  my  dear — granted — 
that's  why  I'm  asking.  Now,  my  dear  Florence, 
have  you  any  deep-rooted  objection  to  the  married 
state? 

FLO.  How  do  I  know?  I've  never  been  mar- 
ried  

MR.  LANHAM.  Precisely — that's  the  beauty  of 
the  system. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Archibald,  I  think  you're  a  per- 
fect idiot.  (He  turns  to  her.)  Whoever  heard  of 
any  woman  objecting  before  marriage — and  if  she 


30  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

objects  afterwards  she'll  only  be  like  every  other 
woman.  Thank  goodness,  my  children  are  nor- 
mal  

MR.  LANHAM.  Then,  Florence,  is  it  that  you 
know  Billy  too  well? 

FLO.     Can  you  know  them  too  well? 

MR.  LANHAM.  Huh!  (Coughs.  Moves  up.) 
We — a — sometimes  I've  thought  so. 

BILLY.  (Rises)  Now,  Mr.  Lanham — see  here.  I 
don't  want  to  be  passed  on  like  a  prize  pig.  (L. 
Comes  down  and  faces  LANHAM.) 

FLO.  You  got  me  into  this.  Billy  Arkwright.  If 
I  have  to  stand  it,  you  shall  too — besides,  nobody 
has  pinned  any  blue  ribbons  on  you —  (Pulls  him 
down  again.  Pause  while  all  resume  poise.) 

MR.  LANHAM.  Is  it  because  Billy  has  too  much 
brains  ? 

( BILLY  brightens.) 

FLO.     (Doubtfully)     N-o-o. 

MR.  LANHAM.  A  man  of  unusual  brains  is  fre- 
quently hard  to  live  with — ask  your  mother. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (Innocently)  I  suppose  one 

would  be (MR.  LANHAM  looks  at  her  quickly 

— she  goes  on,  relieved)  Oh,  but  that  won't  worry' 
her  about  Billy. 

BILLY.     Indeed ! 

MR.  LANHAM.  You  know,  there  are  many  advan- 
tages to  this  marriage. 

FLO.     Yes. 

MR.  LANHAM.  Your  mother  and  myself  and 
Billy's  parents  have  looked  forward  to  it — dreamed 
of  it 

FLO.     Yes,  but  I'd  be  marrying  him 

BILLY.     (Jumping  up}     I'm  going 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  31 

FLO.  (Grabs  his  arm — pulls  him  down)  No,  you 
aren't  going (He  subsides  obediently.) 

MR.  LANHAM.  (With  look  at  them  that  points 
his  speech)  Daughter,  believe  me,  you  are  making  a 
grave  mistake — with  most  couples  it  would  require 
years  for  their  relationship  to  become  so  perfectly 
adjusted 

FLO.  I  don't  want  to  be  so  well  adjusted — every 
woman  likes  to  fight  now  and  then. 

MR.  LANHAM.  (With  a  sigh)  Y-e-s,  and  even  if 
they  don't,  they  develop  wonderful  powers  of  self- 
sacrifice. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Keep  to  the  subject,  Archibald. 
The  Lanham  and  the  Arkwright  places  are  side  by 
side,  and  for  years  I've  dreamed  how  nice  it  would 
be  when  they  were  together. 

FLO.  Mother — you  can't  marry  a  man  just  be- 
cause he  lives  next  door  to  you. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Why  not?  It's  a  much  better 
reason  than  most  people  have. 

MR.  LANHAM.  (Turning  L.)  Have  you  ever 
considered  this,  Flo  ?  We  are  the  same  kind  of  peo- 
ple— we  Lanhams  and  the  Arkwrights — we  think- 
alike — we've  always  been  the  best — we've  always 
held  ourselves  the  best  Now,  here  i  nKentucky  we 
breed  for  a  pure  strain  in  our  horses,  and  in  the 
matter  of  marriage  for  ourselves  and  our  chil- 
dren we  should  be  just  as  careful.  That's  common 
sense. 

FLO.  But  in  all  breeding,  isn't  it  a  good  idea  now 
and  then  to  cross  the  strain  ? 

MRS.  LANHAM.     Florence,  don't  be  vulgar. 

BILLY.  (Jumping  up)  Oh,  what's  the  use  of  con- 
tinuing this  ?  I'll  tell  you  the  real  reason,  Mr.  Lan- 
ham. (LANHAM  moves  down  a  step.)  Flo  did  care 


32  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

for  me,  but  she  went  abroad  and  got  biffed  on  a  man 
in  France 

MRS.  LAN  HAM.  I  knew  she  shouldn't  have  gone 
— I  told  you  so,  Archibald !  (Rises — moves  to  L. — 
R.C.  FLO  sits  quite  white  and  still.) 

MR.  LANHAM.  (For  first  time  he  is  really  down- 
right serious)  Is  this  true,  daughter  ? 

FLO.     Yes,  Father.     (MRS.  LANHAM  sits.) 

MR.  LANHAM.    Who  is  he? 

FLO.    That  doesn't  matter — now. 

MR.  LANHAM.  It  doesn't  matter — ?  (FLORENCE 
rises,  they  confront  each  other — he,  anxious,  deter- 
mined— she,  slender,  calm,  white  but  unafraid — after 
a  pause)  He  is  a  gentleman? 

FLO.     An  officer 

MR.  LANHAM.    I  said,  "a  gentleman." 

FLO.    (Indignantly)   Of  course,  he's  a  gentleman  ! 

MR.  LANHAM.  Then  why  do  you  refuse  his 
name? 

FLO.  I  told  Billy.  He's (With  a  slight  catch) 

— dead 

MR.  LANHAM.  (Softly)  Oh!  (Pause.  MRS. 
LANHAM  sighs  with  relief.  After  a  pause)  If  he 
were  living,  you  would  marry  him  ? 

FLO.     Of  course 

MR.  LANHAM.    But  he  is  dead. 

FLO.     (Softly — hardly  breathing)    Yes 

MR.  LANHAM.  Then  the  greatest  objection  is  re- 
moved  

FLO.  (At  his  tone  goes  to  pieces)  Oh,  it  isn't 
that — I  just  don't  love  Billy — I  don't.  (Goes  up 
stage  to  center.  Stamps  foot.)  I  don't — I  don't — I 
don't! 

MR.  LANHAM.  (Holds  out  his  hand,  grasps  and 
shakes  BILLY'S  hand)  Allow  me  to  congratulate  you 
— she'll  elope  with  you  in  a  month 

FLO.  (In  rage — comes  down)  What!  (To- 
gether.) 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  33 

BILLY.     (In  amazement  and  delight)     What! 

MR.  LANHAM.  Undoubtedly.  My  legal  experi- 
ence of  thirty  odd  years  has  proved  to  me  that  when- 
ever a  witness,  particularly  a  woman,  is  unusually 
vehement,  she  is  invariably  lying. 

FLO.     Oh ! 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Of  course — every  woman  knows 
that 

ELIZABETH.  (Entering,  comes  down  R.,  leaves 
door  open — takes  in  picture)  Well — settled?  Glad 
of  it.  Margaret  Smythe  just  called  me  on  the  'phone 
and  I  told  her  in  confidence 

FLO.  (Turning  to  R.J  She's  the  worst  gossip  in 
town!  Oh.  I  hate  you — I  hate  you — I  hate  every 
one  of  you !  (Turns,  rushes  from  room  and  up- 
stairs.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (Calmly)  You  see — unusually 
vehement 

NORA.  (Appears  at  door)  A  man  to  see  Miss 
Florence. 

(Involuntarily  startled,  all  hold  picture  and  look  at 
one  another.) 

MR.  LANHAM.  (Turns  to  her)  What's  his 
name? 

NORA.     Didn't  give  any,  sir. 

MRS.  LANHAM.    Is  he  a  gentleman? 

NORA.  Oh,  no,  ma'am.  (A  general  sigh  of  re- 
lief.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (Rises,  before  NORA  can  speak) 
Oh,  of  course,  it's  the  butler  they've  sent  from  the 
agency.  Florence  telephoned  them.  I'll  have  her  see 
him.  (She  and  ELIZABETH  exit  upstairs.) 

BILLY.  You  really  think,  Mr.  Lanham,  that  I — 
that  Flo 

MR.  LANHAM.  The  feminine  psychology,  my  dear 
boy,  is  nothing  to  think  about — it's  to  pray  over. 


34  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

BILLY.  Yes,  sir.  Good  afternoon.  (Crosses  up 
L.  end  of  sofa  and  exits.) 

NORA.     It's  not  the  butler,  sir. 

MR.  LANHAM.     (Seated  c.)     Not  the  butler? 

NORA.  (R.cJ  No,  sir,  I  asked  him.  It's  a  man 
from  France — says  he  has  a  message  for  Miss  Flor- 
ence from  the  dead,  sir. 

MR.  LANHAM.    (Rises)    What's  that? 

NORA.    Well,  that's  what  he  saicl,  sir. 

MR.  LANHAM.    Show  him  in  here.     (NORA  exits.) 

(McGiNNis  pauses  at  door.  He  is  about  thirty — 
— big,  broad,  with  the  straight  fonvard  way  of 
looking  at  one  that  compels  attention.  About 
him  is  the  quiet  confidence  of  the  trained  bayo- 
net fighter  and  he  carries  the  air  of  the  man  who 
has  led  men  when  they  had  to  be  led  and  driven 
them  when  they  had  to  be  driven,  and  always 
gotten  results.  His  very  straightfonvardncss 
makes  one  overlook  the  shrewdness  and  the  hu- 
mor that  lurks  in  his  background.  He  is  dressed 
in  a  way  to  make  a  sensitize  woman  scream,  a 
poor-fitting,  ready-made  suit  of  ratJicr  loud  de- 
sign, a  loud  tie,  a  very  low  turn-down  collar. 
Very  yellow  shoes  of  the  kind  that  are  sold  as 
''nobby,"  and  are — a  colored  handkcrcliief 
shows  in  the  outside  upper  left  hand  pocket  of 
the  coat.  A  swell  dresser  at  the  Gas  House 
Ball.  The  barber  has  fixed  his  hair  as  only  a 
barber  unhindered  can  do.  Nevertheless,  the 
personality  of  the  man  is  strong  enough  even 
with  the  handicap  of  his  clothes  to  command  re- 
spect.) 

MR.  LANHAM.    Come  in!    (NORA  closes  door.) 
McGiNNis.    Yes,  sir.     (LANHAM  motions  NORA 
off.)     Nora ! 

NORA.    Yes,  sir !    (Exits.) 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  35 

MR.  LANHAM.    (L..C.)    I  am  Mr.  Lanham. 

McGiNNis.  My  instructions  were  to  give  my  mes- 
sage privately  to  Miss  Florence  Lanham. 

MR.  LANHAM.    Your  instructions  from  whom? 

McGiNNis.     From  the  Capt'n,  sir. 

MR.  LANHAM.     Captain  who? 

McGiNNis.  My  instructions,  sir,  were  to  say 
"From  the  Captain." 

MR.  LANHAM.  (Crosses  to  lower  end  of  sofa) 
The  Captain  is  the  officer  about  whose  death  she  has 
heard  ? 

McGrNNis.    Yes. 

MR.  LANHAM.  Before  you  deliver  this  message 
I  have  to  say  something. 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  sir. 

MR.  LANHAM.     My  daughter  is — er — romantic — 

McGiNNis.    Yes,  sir,  they  all  are. 

MR.  LANHAM.  But  she  is  the  kind  of  girl  who 
recites  Kipling  in  front  of  the  fire 

McGiNNis.     I've  heard  her. 

MR.  LANHAM.    Do  you  know  Omar  Khayyam? 

McGiNNis.     Sure. 

MR.  LANHAM.    She  discovered  him. 

McGiNNis.  (Crosses  left — smiles)  Yes,  sir.  I 
heard  the  Capt'n  tell  her  if  she'll  bring  him  a  jug  of 
wine  she  could  cut  out  the  "thou" 

MR.  LANHAM.  I  should  like  to  have  known  your 
Captain.  (Pause.)  My  daughter  has  a  single-track 
mind  and 

McGiNNis.  I  see.  No  management!  Rear-end 
collisions (Nods  eagerly.) 

MR.  LANHAM.  (Nods)  So  under  the  circum- 
stances, since  he  is  dead  I  don't  wish  any  collision, 
understand  ? 

McGiNNis.  Yes,  sir.  (With  obvious  sincerity.) 
The  last  thing  that  my  Captain  would  want  would 
be  for  Miss  Florence  to  suffer  one  minute  on  his 
account. 


36  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

MR.  LANHAM.  I'll  send  Miss  Florence.  (Crosses 
to  center.  Starts  to  exit,  pauses,  crosses  around  R. 
end  of  sofa  and  up  R.)  You  seem  to  be  the  kind  of 
man  to  be  depended  upon.  Later — if  you  need  a 
job,  I  think  I  could  find  something  for  you. 

McGiNNis.  (With  a  meaning  MR.  LANHAM  does 
not  catch)  I'll  probably  see  you  later 

(Left  alone,  McGiNNis  looks  about  the  room,  crosses 
to  L.,  dusts  shoes  with  handkerchief.  Business 
with  handkerchief,  as  he  crosses  up  to  c.  door 
and  looks  off,  then  crosses  to  mirror  up  R.,  then 
looks  off  door  R.  Returns  to  c.  door,  sees  FLO 
coming  down  the  stairs  and  takes  strategic  po- 
sition behind  screen  up  L.,  just  as  FLO  enters. 
She  comes  in  c.,  looks  around,  sees  no  one — but 
he  is  in  view  of  the  audience  all  the  while.  As 
she  appears,  his  face  is  transformed  with  long- 
ing and  love  for  her.  He  slips  into  her  view. 
When  she  hears  him,  she  turns,  gives  a  wild 
gasp  of  amazement,  joy,  love — starts  toward 
him,  coming  forward  R.c.j 

FLO.    (She  is  going  toward  him  eagerly)    Sam ! 
McGiNNis.      (His  arms  outstretched — from   the 

bottom  of  his  soul)    Flo 

FLO.     Why— I 

McGiNNis.    (Front  of  sofa)    Sure  it's  me! 

(FLO  stops  as  though  struck  with  a  club.  For  the 
first  time  she  takes  in  his  appearance.  The  light 
goes  out  of  her  face.  Absorbed  in  his  love  and 
his  joy  at  seeing'  her,  McGiNNis  does  not  no- 
tice. He  steps  over  and  enfolds  her  in  his  arms. 
She  submits  without  returning  his  embrace. 
Her  face  is  up  to  his — her  eyes  close  defen- 
sively. The  audience  must  see  her  hands  held 
at  her  sides  clinched  as  she  submits  to  his  cm- 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  37 

brace  and  kisses.  Her  action  is  beyond  her  con- 
trot  entirely — involuntary.  At  first  he  does  not 
realize  it  in  the  slightest.) 

McGiNNis.  (Holding  her  tight,  kissing  her) 
You  do  fit  there,  don't  you — just  like  you  used  to — 
Mrs.  McGinnis. 

FLO.  (Her  hands  at  her  side,  clinched — faintly) 
Mrs.  McGinnis? 

MC&NNIS.  That's  your  name,  isn't  it,  darlin'? 
Mrs.  Sam  McGinnis 

FLO.     (Faintly  uncertain)     Y-e-s,  I  suppose  so — 

McGiNNis.  Suppose  so?  (Laughs.)  Well, 
there's  no  doubt  in  my  mind.  Why,  the  last  thing 
I  thought  when  I  jumped  into  that  machine-gun  nest 
and  went  down  was  you — and  you  know  the  first 
thing  I  said  when  I  came  to  in  the  field  hospital — I 
was  lying  on  my  back,  looking  up  at  the  clear  sky, 
and  I  said,  "Why,  why,  it's  just  the  color  of  her 
eyes."  And  then  I  passed  out  again  and  didn't  come 
to  for  weeks.  (Pause.)  Aren't  you  glad  to  see 
me? 

FLO.     (Constrained)    Y-e-s,  of  course. 

McGiNNis.  (Lets  go  her  hands,  grabs  her  face 
and  covers  it  with  kisses — she  merely  submits)  It's 
great  to  be  alive  and  back  with  your  girl  again ! 
(Crosses  to  L.) 

FLO.  You  were  reported — I  thought  you  were 
dead. 

McGiNNis.  Well,  you  see,  in  the  mix-up,  one  of 
the  Fritzies  made  a  poke  with  his  bayonet  and  just 
ripped  off  my  dog-tag — it  was  weeks  before  I  could 
tell  'em  who  I  was. 

FLO.     Oh! 

McGiNNis.  (Laughs)  I  told  'em  a  lot  about  you, 
though.  (Pulling  her  over  in  front  of  couch)  Why, 
for  three  solid  weeks,  delirious,  I  was  talking  about 
you.  Why,  they  never  did  call  me  in  that  hospital 


38  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

anything  but  Florence's  husband — you're  famous  all 
over  France. 

FLO.  (Sits  end  of  sofa  R. — the  strain  in  her  voice) 
You  should  have  let  me  know — you  should  not  have 
surprised  me — you  shouldn't  have  come — (With  a 
look  that  takes  in  his  appearance) — this  way 

McGiNNis.  (Her  viewpoint  striking  him  for  the 
first  time — sits — takes  her  hand)  I'm  sorry — hon- 
est— I  never  thought  of  it — that  way.  You  see,  I 
tried  to  establish  communication  with  Miss  Florence 
Lanham  of  the  Red  Cross  because  I  didn't  want  them 
to  send  you  back  for  marrying  over  there — and  I 
found  out  you'd  already  come  back — and  then  I  didn't 
cable  because  I  thought  Row  much  fun  it  would  be 
to  surprise  you,  and  I  waited  to  get  well  and  strong 
because  I  didn't  want  my  wife's  first  job  to  be  nurs- 
ing a  half  man 

FLO.     You  are  all  right  again  ? 

McGiNNis.  (Pats  her  hand)  Sure!  Didn't  I 
tell  you  like  I  had  my  strength?  (Pause.) 

FLO.    Nobody  here  knows  I'm  married. 

McGiNNis.  Then  you  kept  our  agreement.  (He 
takes  sofa  pillow  and  sits  on  it — she  nods — a  long 
pause.  He  gets  out  cigar,  bites  off  end,  spits  it  out, 
and  lights  it.  Long  pause.)  Remember  that  night, 
sweetheart,  when  we  marched  back  from  the  front 
to  the  little  village  en  rcpos — I  was  dirty  and  tired 
and  ragged  and  unshaved — didn't  look  much  as  I 
look  now,  did  I? 

FLO.  (With  the  bitterness  she  can't  keep  out  of 
her  tone)  No,  you  didn't.  (Pause.)  You  were 
glorious  then  in  your  Captain's  uniform,  with  your 
Croix  de  Guerre  and  double  citation  and  everybody 
crazy  about  you  and  the  things  you  had  done — you 
were  glorious — then (He  pays  no  attention.) 

McGiNNis.  You  were  standing  in  the  door  of 
that  little  hotel.  I  turned  the  corner,  dead  to  the 
world,  and  then  I  saw  you  and  you  looked  at  me — 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  39 

just  looked  at  me — and  I  was  walking  on  air.  Flo, 
do  you  remember? 

FLO.  Yes, — I  remember (She  is  looking 

straight  forward  and  it  begins  to  come  back  to  her.) 

McGiNNis.  And  we  went  out  in  the  moonlight 
and  I  started  to  tell  you  how  ashamed  I  was  for 
boxing  your  ears,  and  you  made  me  show  you  those 
foolish  medals,  and  then  I  can't  tell  how  or  what 
happened,  but  the  first  thing  I  knew  I  was  holding 
you  tight  and  telling  you — telling  you  things  I  didn't 
know  it  was  in  me  to  say,  and  you  was  just  looking, 
with  your  eyes  like  great  big  stars — do  you  remem- 
ber? 

FLO.  Yes (With  intensity)  Yes,  I  remem- 
ber that  night 

McGiNNis.  And  when  we  came  back  and  I  told 
the  dominie  what  we  wanted  him  to  do,  didn't  he 
rave?  It  was  against  orders — it  would  cost  him  his 
job  and  break  me  and  send  you  back  to  the  States — 
My,  but  the  old  fellow  was  hard  nosed.  Then  what 
you  said  to  him.  I'll  never  forget  it !  (Almost  sol- 
emnly) "He's  my  man,  and  so  you'd  better  marry 
us,  hadn't  you?"  You  remember?  (Holding  for  R. 
hand  with  his  right.) 

FLO.    (Draining  a  long  breath)    Yes 

McGiNNis.  And  our  week  in  that  little  village — 
our  honeymoon,  one  week  of  perfect  joy,  with  the 
old  guns  booming  up  there  ahead  and  men  dying  and 
us  living  as  we'll  never  live  again Do  you  re- 
member, Flo?  (She  nods  slowly.)  And  the  last 
morning — when  I  left  for  the  Argpnne — you  were 
standing  in  the  same  doorway  where  I  saw  you  the 
evening  I  came  in,  and  I  marched  past  at  the  head 
of  the  old  F  Company,  and  you  stood  there  looking 
at  me  with  your  eyes  big  and  your  face  dead  white, 
but  trying  your  darndest  to  smile — God  bless  you ! 
(Patting  her  hand.)  And  I  turned  the  corner  afraid 
to  look  back 


40  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FLO.  (From  the  bottom  of  her  heart)  Oh,  if  we 
could  only  have  that  time  again. 

McGiNNis.  That  time?  What's  the  matter  with 
this?  (Slaps  her  on  the  back  and  leans  back  on 
sofa.  She  looks  at  him — droops — pause.)  All  right 
to  smoke  in  here  ?  (She  nods.  He  blows  out  smoke, 
crosses  his  legs,  leans  back  comfortably  in  one  cor- 
ner of  the  divan.  She  sits  in  the  other  corner — 
every  sensitive  feeling  in  her  outraged  by  his  com- 
monness, the  way  he  smokes — the  way  he  leans  back 
and  crosses  his  legs  and  his  general  attitude.  He 
pokes  his  finger  in  his  right  ear.  She  looks  at  him, 
rises  quickly,  almost  involuntarily — he  does  not  rise. 
Crosses  to  R.  of  sofa.)  What's  wrong? 

FLO.  (Rises — upstage)  Nothing — nothing  that 
you'd  understand. 

McGiNNis.  (Good  humoredly)  All  right 

(She  moves  up.  Slightly  turns,  looking  at  him — he 
cannot  see  her.  On  her  face  is  all  the  hopelessness, 
the  tragedy  of  her  dead  romance,  the  realization  that 
from  her  civilian  point  of  view  she  is  married  to  a 
crude,  provincial,  good-hearted  rough-neck  miles  be- 
neath her  socially.)  Isn't  it  great  to  think  we  can 
pick  up  our  lives  and  carry  on  just  where  we  left 
off? 

FLO.  Can  anybody  do  that  ?  (Down  stage  R.  end 
of  sofa.) 

McGiNNis.  Why  not?  We've  only  had  one  week 
and  we've  got  forty  years  ahead  of  us 

FLO.  (Down  stage,  she  looks  at  him,  shudders) 
Forty  years ! 

McGiNNis.  Oh !  By  the  way Here's  some- 
thing you  might  like (Reaches  hand  in  his 

pocket — pulls  out  the  Distinguished  Service  Cross — 
tosses  it  to  her.) 

FLO.     (Catching  it)     What  is  it  ? 

McGiNNis.  Distinguished  Service  Cross — gave 
it  to  me  for  the  Argonne  show. 


41 

FLO.  (With  fierce  eagerness  trying  to  reconstruct 
her  hero)  Tell  me  all  about  it — how  you  got  it — 

everything (Almost  patJietically)  Make  it 

heroic !  (Leans  over  R.  end  of  sofa.) 

McGiNNis.  Just  like  a  woman.  (Shakes  his 
head.) 

FLO.     What  did  you  get  it  for? 

McGiNNis.     Self  defense. 

FLO.  What?  (Sharply)  Don't  be  absurd !  (Al- 
most pathetically)  Tell  me  everything Oh,  if 

you  could  only  understand  how  much  I  want  to  make 
you  my  hero  again (Stops — with  look  of  in- 
voluntary distaste.) 

McGiNNis.  Well,  I  told  you — self  defense.  You 
see,  some  of  those  Fritzies  were  going  to  kill  me 
and  I  killed  them  first — that's  all. 

FLO.  Oh,  I  see Jrlere's  your  Cross.  (Hands 

it  back.)  I'm  awfully  proud,  of  course,  that  you 
got  it.  (She  goes  up  stage,  crosses  left  to  R.  of 
table,  then  crosses  L.  of  table  to  R.  of  little  table, 
facing  R). 

McGiNNis.  (A  pause — he  looks  about  the  room 
unth  admiration)  You  know,  it's  funny  to  think  of 
you  being  rich.  You  never  told  me  anything  about 
your  people,  and  over  there  I  thought  you  were  just 
a  poor  nobody  like  myself.  If  I  had  realized  all 

this (Indicates  room)  — I  don't  think  I'd  have 

had  the  nerve.  (When  he  begins  to  realise  her  snob- 
bishness, McGiNNis  begins  to  "pile  it  on"  and 
broaden  his  effects  to  be  a  little  coarser  than  he  redly 
is.  At  the  same  time,  by  his  acting,  over-elabora- 
tion and  side  looks  at  her  zvhcn  she  is  not  looking  at 
him,  he  must  show  that  he  is  doing  this  for  effect  and 
really  having  a  little  fun  with  her,  at  the  time  not 
realizing  fully  lw^  deep  her  feeling  is.) 

FLO.  (With  unconscious  snobbishness,  turning  to 
McGiNNis)  The  Lanhams  have  always  been  what 


42  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

you  call  "rich" — the  best  people.  (Proudly)  My 
father  is  the  best  lawyer  in  this  State— 

McGiNNis.  (Smiling  at  her  pride)  \Yell — my 
father  is  the  best  shoemaker  in  Racine 

FLO.     (With  distaste)    A  shoe  manufacturer? 

McGiNNis.  (Rubbing  it  in)  Yes — makes  'em  all 
himself  by  hand  and  nobody  turns  out  better  ones. 
Look !  (Holds  up  feet.) 

FLO.     (In  absolute  despair)    A  cobbler? 

McGiNNis.     We'll  visit  him  when  we  leave  here. 

FLO.     Oh !    (She  looks  about  wildly.) 

McGiNNis.  (Determined  to  give  her  a  thorough 
lesson)  He'll  be  proud  of  you.  He  has  a  cottage, 
six  rooms,  right  next  to  his  shop — we  can  rent  from 
him.  (FLO,  completely  overwrought,  sinks  on  chair 
L.  of  sofa  and  bursts  into  a  choking  sob.  He  crosses 
to  her.  Instantly,  when  she  breaks,  his  attitude 
changes.  He  cannot  altogether  understand  ivhy  she 
is  so  serious,  but  he  is  remorsefully  tender.  Puts  his 
arm  about  her.)  Sweetheart ! 

FLO.    (Shrinks  from  him)    Don't 

McGiNNis.  (R.  of  her)  I  didn't  mean  to  hurt 
you — why,  I  wouldn't  hurt  you  for  the  world 

FLO.     I  know  you  wouldn't — knowingly. 

McGiNNis.  I  was  just (Starts  to  say  "teas- 
ing"— she  cuts  in.) 

FLO.  (Cutting  in)  Oh,  Sam,  those  clothes — the 
tie — those  shoes ! 

McGiNNis.  (In  amazement)  You  ain't  crying 
over  the  shoes — these  clothes (Spreading  him- 
self like  a  peacock.)  Pretty  nifty,  I  thought 

FLO.  (Snlffily)  "Nifty" — yes,  I  suppose  so, — 
pretty  "nifty" — and  we  are  going  to  visit  your 
father,  the  best  cobbler  in  Racine — and  he'll  think 
they're  pretty  "nifty"  too — Florence  Lanham's  fath- 
er-in-law, the  best  cobbler  in  Racine (Laughs 

hysterically  high.) 

McGiNNis.     (Crosses  to  her — a  flash  of  anger 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  43 

shows  on  his  face — then  he  restrains  himself — looks 
at  her  with  a  smile  of  love  and  a  little  pity)  But  re- 
member, you  are  married  to  me 

FLO.     You're  his  son 

McGiNNis.  (With  sincere  pride  and  straightfor- 
wardness) Yes,  and  I  happen  to  be  proud  of  my 
father.  (Leaning  toward  her.) 

FLO.  I'm  sorry (Pause.)  Sam,  will  you  do 

something  for  me — just  because  I  want  you  to? 
(Rises.) 

McGiNNis.     Of  course 

FLO.  Will  you — will  you  go  back  in  the  Army 
again  ?  (He  looks  mutinous.) 

McGiNNis.  (Pause — shakes  his  head)  I  can't 
do  it,  Flo 

FLO.  (Pleading)  But  you  were  a  brilliant  offi- 
cer with  a  great  record— the  Croix  de  Guerre,  two 
citations — the  Distinguished  Service  Cross —  Why, 
you'd  go  up  fast — you'd  be  some  one  I  could  be 
proud  of — you'd  be  as  good  as  anybody 

McGiNNis.  (Trying  to  change  her  mood)  I 
never  saw  an  Irishman  that  wasn't  better  than  any- 
body  

FLO.  (Pleading)  Won't  you — for  my  sake  ?  It's 
our  chance  of  happiness,  Sam 

McGiNNis.  (Sincerely)  I  can't  be  a  quitter  even 
for  you,  Flo ! 

FLO.     Quitter ! 

McGiNNis.  Yes — the  army  in  peace  time — that's 
for  the  fellow  who  hasn't  the  nerve  to  fight  with  his 
brains  and  is  looking  for  a  life  pension  and  a  soft 
place  to  fall — but  me — I'm  going  to  do  something  in 
this  world.  I'm  going  to  be  somebody.  I'm  going 
to  take  you  away  from  all  this  foolishness — I'm  go- 
ing to  take  you  to 

FLO.     Racine  ? 

McGiNNis.  If  you're  my  wife  youll  go  with  me 
anywhere ! 


44  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FLO.  (Turning  away — facing  audience)  I'd 
rather  go  any  wnere  tiian  to  ivacine.  ( Tiiey  confront 
each  other.) 

McGiNNis.  (Speaks  quietly)  Did  anybody  ever 
tell  you  you  were  a  snob  ? 

FLO.  (Looks  at  him — quickly  justifying  herself) 
I'm  not  a  snob.  I  can't  explain  it — but  it's  some- 
thing any  woman  can  understand.  It's  not  Racine — 
it's  not  only  the  clothes — although  when  I  first  came 
in  and  saw  the  clothes  before  I  saw  your  face  I 
thought  you  were  one  of  the  applicants  who  had 
come  for  the  butler's  place — but  it's  you,  Sam,  it's 
the  way  you  look  and  act — (He  crosses  and  stops  be- 
fore sofa) — something  that  makes  me  want  to  get 
away  when  you  touch  me,  Sam. 

McGiNNis.     And  you're  my  wife! 

FLO.  (Ashamed  of  herself  but  determined)  I 
hate  myself  for  it,  Sam,  but  I  can't  help  it.  It's  been 
growing  since  the  moment  I  saw  you.  Over  there 
we  were  all  trying  to  do  one  thing,  and  the  bigness 
of  what  we  were  trying  to  do  blotted  out  all  differ- 
ences and  made  us  one,  but  over  here  it's  not  that 
way — we  belong  to  different  classes,  Sam — (Realiz- 
ing her  tragedy) — and  I  reckon  they  don't  mate 

McGiNNis.  (Looking  out  front — pause — humor- 
ously) And  when  I  got  myself  shot  to  pieces  and 
gassed  I  thought  I  was  helping  to  make  the  world 
safe  for  democracy. 

FLO.     (Horrified  at  an  attack  on  a  fetish)     Sam ! 

McGiNNis.  (Throwing  cigar  in  fire — crosses  to 
her,  she  turns  L.J  Yes,  Mrs.  McGinnis,  you're  a 
darned  sight  worse  snob  than  I  took  you  for.  Of 
course,  I'm  common  and  vulgar  and  got  no  manners 
— I  know  it — you've  been  doing  nothing  all  your  life 
but  learning  manners.  My  manners  I  got  from  the 
streets  and  my  education  from  night  school,  but  I've 
made  a  civil  engineer  of  myself  and  I'm  going  up. 
Manners  and  sensations — that's  what  you  and  your 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  45 

kind  live  on — that's  what  you  went  to  France  for — 
just  to  get  a  new  sensation — and  you  met  me.  All 
right,  you're  my  wife,  and  now  I'm  going  to  give  you 

another  sensation (FLO  turns  to  him.)  You 

and  I  are 

FLO.  I  can't  go  through  with  it,  Sam — I  just 
can't 

McGiNNis.  You  know  I  worship  you,  Flo — and 
you  are  making  me  wish  I  hadn't  come  back  from. 
France.  (Sincerely.) 

FLO.  Don't!  (Pause — turning  to  him.)  Don't 
you  realize  it's  hard  for  me,  too,  Sam?  Do  you 
think  it's  easy  for  a  girl  to  have  all  her  dreams — 
shattered?  You  want  me  to  be  honest,  don't  you? 
You  wouldn't  want  me  to  go  through  with  it  looking 
down  on  you  and  learning  to  hate  you?  (Pause — 
while  he  tries  to  get  her  point  of  view.) 

McGiNNis.  Looking  down  on  me?  You  mean 
because  my  father  is  a  cobbler. 

FLO.     (Sits— pause)     Don't ! 

McGiNNis.  Abe  Lincoln  was  a  rail-splitter,  but 
I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  some  of  the  haughty  beau- 
ties who  turned  him  down  afterwards  regretted  it. 
(With  lame  attempt  at  humor  to  hide  his  heart- 
break) Of  course,  if  Dad  were  a  bad  cobbler,  I 
could  understand  it,  but 

FLO.     Sam. 

McGiNNis.  (Turning  again  to  her)  I'm  a  civil 
engineer  myself — yes,  Dad  made  the  money  with  his 
own  hands,  making  shoes,  to  give  me  the  chance  not 
to  be  a  cobbler — that's  why  I'm  proud  of  him.  (Fac- 
ing front.) 

FLO.    Please !    (Pause.)    I  didn't  say  it  was  that. 

McGiNNis.  (Turning  front)  You're  no  "Fly- 
up-the-creek,"  so  I  won't  insult  you  by  asking  you 
if  you  love  another  man. 

FLO.    It— it— isn't  that. 


46  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

McGiNNis.  (Pause — turning  again  to  her)  You 
mean  you  just  don't  love  me  any  more? 

FLO.     Sam — it's 

McGiNNis.  That  my  clothes  and  my  manners 
have  killed  it 


FLO.     Forgive  me- 


McGiNNis.  Nothing  to  forgive — feelings  are  feel- 
ings and  have  rules  of  their  own — only — clothes  and 

manners (Pause — shakes  liis  head.)  I  thought 

a  woman  loved  a  man  because  he  loved  her,  because 
he  was  a  regular  fellow  and  would  take  care  of  her 
and  be  kind  and  decent  and  thoughtful.  I  guess  that 
only  shows  how  little  I  knew  of  women — but  clothes 
and  manners — that  seems  a  little  thing  to  quit  loving 
a  man  for (Crosses  to  her.)  You  know,  I  be- 
lieve I'd  keep  on  loving  you  if  you  chewed  tobacco — 

FLO.     (Rises,  horrified)     Chewed  tobacco 

McGiNNis.  Yes,  I'd  just  begin  chewing,  too,  so 
I  wouldn't  notice  it.  (Crosses  R.,  back  of  table  down 
to  front  of  sofa.  She  stands  at  L.  end  of  it — he  is 
R.  of  her.) 

FLO.  (Going  to  him)  That's  it — I'm  afraid  I'll 
begin  chewing  tobacco,  too. 

McGiNNis.  (Pause — his  face  suddenly  lights — 
goes  right  after  her)  Yes,  Mrs.  McGinnis,  you  are 
a  snob— in  fact,  you're  about  the  funniest,  dearest 
little  snob  in  the  world,  but  I'm  blessed  if  I'll  admit 
you  don't  love  me — I'm  blessed  if  I'll  admit  you're 
that  little,  and  I'm  blessed  if  I'll  let  you  admit  it, 
either — I've  an  idea. 

FLO.     What  are  you  going  to  do  ? 

McGiNNis.  Do?  You're  a  snob — I'll  be  a  snob, 
too! 

FLO.     IV  hat! 

McGiNNis.  No — I  won't  give  you  up — I'm  going 
to  have  manners,  and  while  I'm  learning  I'll  educate 
you,  too — I'm  going  to  give  you  a  little  lesson  in 
democracy 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  47 

FLO.  You  mean  you  are  going  to  learn  manners 
from  me? 

McGiNNis.  Good  Lord,  no!  I'll  learn  'em  from 
the  only  people  who  have  'em — the  servants. 

FLO.     The  servants  ?    I  don't  understand 

McGiNNis.  Perfectly  simple — I'm  going  to  take 
that  job  in  this  house  as  butler  that  seems  to  be  va- 
cant  

FLO.  Preposterous!  You  shan't  do  a  thing  like 
that! 

McGiNNis.  Who  is  going  to  stop  me?  Your 
father  promised  me  a  job (She  is  too  horror- 
stricken  to  speak.)  Yes,  I'll  learn  manners,  and  even 
if  you  don't  learn  democracy,  a  butler  husband  ought 
to  be  a  pretty  good  cure  for  snobbishness (Goes 

RV> 

FLO.  (Following  him)  Sam,  you're  mad!  You 
can't  do  a  thing  like  that !  You  can't  and  you're  not 
going  to — they  won't  employ  you — I  won't  permit 
it 

McGiNNis.  (Turning  on  her)  If  you  don't  want 
the  full  story  of  this  marriage  to  come  out — if  you 
don't  want  your  divorce  fought  to  a  finish  in  the 
open — and  you  know  I'll  fight  to  a  finish — you'll  per- 
mit it.  Where  do  you  think  your  proud  Lanham 
name  would  be — do  you  think  there  would  be  much 
sympathy  for  a  wife  who  deserted  her  husband  after 
he  was  wounded  and  had  won  two  decorations  ? 

FLO.     (Sits  on  sofa)    That's  cowardly. 

McGiNNis.  (Leaning  over  her  R.  of  sofa)  Of 
course  it's  cowardly,  but  I'm  fighting  for  my  happi- 
ness— I'm  fighting  for  your  happiness — I'm  fighting 
to  open  your  eyes — to  change  you  from  a  poor  little 
snob  into  the  real  woman  you  have  it  in  you  to  be- 
come, and  I'll  do  anything  to  win,  because  the  stake 
is  too  big  to  lose ( The  full  force  of  his  deter- 
mination overcomes  her.  She  realises  he  is  going 


48  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

through  -with  it  and  the  horror  of  a  public  exposure 
seizes  her.) 

FLO.     (Turns  to  him)    You'd  make  it  public? 

McGiNNis.  (Realising  he  has  won)  On  the 
front  page  of  every  newspaper.  (Out  front.) 

FLO.  (Rises  and  crosses  to  him — in  pain)  Sam, 
I'll  stick — no  matter  what  I  think,  I'll  stick — let's  go 
away  together — I'll  go  with  you  anywhere — I'll  go  to 
Racine 

McGiNNis.     No (Shakes  his  head.) 

FLO.  Please  take  me  to  Racine — I  promise — hon- 
estly I  won't 

McGiNNis.  Look  down  on  my  father?  Oh, 
that's  not  what  I'm  afraid  of.  (Confidently)  I'm 
afraid  he'll  look  down  on  you. 

FLO.    What ! 

McGiNNis.  (Apologetically)  He's  very  old  fash- 
ioned, you  know — he  wears  horn  spectacles  and 

chews  tobacco (FLO  crosses  left.)  I  can  just 

see  him  sitting  on  his  bench,  working  over  a  shoe — 
chewing  tobacco  and  looking  over  his  specs  at  you — 
(Crosses  back  of  table  and  sits  on  left  end  of  sofa — 
takes  book-end  from  table — acts  out  picture.)  "Yes, 
Sam,  she's  a  good-looker,  all  right,  and  she  sure  is 
high-falutin'.  Can  she  cook?"  "No,  dad."  "Make 
beds?"  "No,  dad."  "Make  clothes?"  "No,  Dad." 
"Keep  house?"  "No,  Dad."  "Take  care  of  the 
baby?"  "No,  Dad."  "What  are  you  going  to  do 
with  her,  Sam  ?  Put  her  in  the  movies  ?"  (Rises — 
crosses  to  her.)  Then  how  would  I  feel?  No,  I 
won't  take  any  wife  to  my  father's  house  that  I'd 
be  ashamed  of.  I'm  a  snob  and  I  couldn't  stand  for 
my  wife  being  looked  down  on  by  the  best  cobbler  in 
Racine.  (Crosses  down  c.) 

FLO.    You'd  be  ashamed  of  me? 

McGiNNis.  (Crosses  back  to  her  L.,  R.  of  her) 
Now,  don't  hit  the  ceiling,  and  above  all,  don't  get 
discouraged.  After  I've  educated  you,  you'll  be  all 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  49 

right.    Why,  I'll  make  you  so  I  can  take  you  into  the 
poorest  house  in  this  land  and  not  be  ashamed  of 

you (She  collapses — beaten.) 

FLO.     (Sits  chair  L.C.)    Oh ! 

(Feeling  he  has  beaten  her,  McGiNNis's  attitude 
changes.  He  becomes  tender,  sympathetic,  his 
love  showing  forth.) 

McGiNNis.  (To  R.  of  her  chair — tenderly)  I 
wouldn't  be  so  hard,  darling — but  I  have  to.  You 
don't  know  how  much  I  love  you. 

FLO.     It's  a  queer  way  of  showing  it 

McGiNNis.  If  I  don't  make  good,  I  won't  hold 
you,  I  promise. 

FLO.  (Straightening — anxiously)  You  mean  if 
you  can't  learn — if  you  stay  as  you  are 

McGiNNis.  You'll  be  free — no  one  knows  of  our 
marriage — no  one  need  know — I'll  go  away  quietly 
— after  a  time  I'll  get  a  divorce  or  you  can  get  a 
divorce  in  some  other  state.  It  can  all  be  hushed 
up  and  none  of  your  friends  need  ever  know  of  your 
disgrace. 

FLO.     Your  word  of  honor  ? 

McGiNNis.  Yes — if  you  play  the  game  fairly — 
give  me  a  chance.  It's  a  go  ?  (Holds  out  his  hand. 
She  nods  as  LANHAM  enters  c.  from  R.  McGiNNis 
turns  to  LANHAM.  Moving  toward  LANHAM. ) 
You  said  something  about  a  job,  sir? 

LANHAM.     Yes. 

McGiNNis.  I  was  speaking  to  Miss  Lanham — 
I'd  like  to  try  that  job  as  butler 

LANHAM.  Butler?  You?  (Loughs.  MRS.  LAN- 
HAM  and  ELIZAETH  enter,  come  down  L.  MRS. 
LANHAM  left  of  sofa,  ELIZABETH  back  of  table.) 
Mother,  what  do  you  think  of  this  man  for  butler? 

ELIZABETH.    Butler?    (Laughs.) 


50  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

MRS.  LANHAM.  That  man?  Archibald,  don't  be 
ridiculous 

McGiNNis.  Why  don't  you  give  me  a  chance, 
ma'am  ?  I'll  make  good.  I'm  strong  enough  for  the 
job. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Being  a  butler  is  hardly  a  ques- 
tion of  strength.  What's  your  experience? 

McGiNNis.  I  was  mess  sergeant  of  my  company 
once.  They  busted  me  for  busting  a  fresh  cook,  but 
I  was  sergeant  once,  and  I've  been  K.P.  lots  of  times. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  I  don't  see,  Archibald,  what  put 
such  a  ridiculous  idea  in  your  head. 

LANHAM.  Why  won't  he  make  a  butler?  His 
manners  are  almost  bad  enough  to  be  a  gentleman — 
don't  you  think  so,  Flo? 

FLO.     I  think 

McGiNNis.  I  been  gassed,  sir — I  ain't  fit  for 
heavy  work. 

LANHAM.  That  decides  it.  I'm  not  going  to  turn 
down  a  soldier.  (Crosses  to  MRS.  LANHAM.)  Be- 
sides, Zack  Hart  is  coming  down  from  New  York  in 
a  week  or  so  in  connection  with  the  biggest  deal 
we've  ever  had — and  you  know  how  you'd  feel  en- 
tertaining him  without  a  butler. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  I  know  how  I'd  feel  entertaining 
him  with  this  kind  of  butler. 

LANHAM.  Nonsense,  teach  him.  (Going  up  to 
ELIZABETH.)  Flo,  you'll  teach  him,  won't  you? 
(Crosses  to  FLO.) 

FLO.     All  right,  Father. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  It's  on  your  head,  Archibald. 
(Crosses  to  center.  To  McGiNNis)  What's  your 
name? 

McGiNNis.    (Coming  to  her)    McGinnis,  ma'am. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  McGinnis !  \Vhile  you're  here. 
your  name  will  be  "Dodson."  I  always  call  my  but- 
ler "Dodson." 

McGiNNis.    "Dodson"  it  is. 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  51 

MRS.  LANHAM.  That  will  do,  Dodson.  You  take 
him  in  hand,  Florence.  (McGiNNis  turns  to  FLO.) 

FLO.  Dodson,  go  to  the  dining-room.  Nora,  the 
maid  there,  will  tell  you  what  to  do. 

McGiNNis.  Yes,  miss.  (Turns,  stalks  out — a 
soldier  at  attention.  Warn  Curtain.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.    (Critically)    He  has  a  figure. 

ELIZABETH.  I  bet  he'd  be  wonderful  in  silk  stock- 
ings. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  I  was  just  thinking  of  that.  (To 
FLO)  Flo,  what  do  you  think  of  him  ?  (Cross  down 
center.) 

McGiNNis.  (Reappears  at  door.  To  MR.  LAN- 
HAM)  Grub's  ready.  Come  and  get  it. 

(LANHAM  laughs.     MRS.  LANHAM  and  ELIZABETH 
sink  back  in  horror,  FLO  laughs  hysterically  as) 

CURTAIN  FALLS. 


ACT   II 


SCENE  :  The  Lanham  dining-room — an  old-fashioned 
room  with  a  conservatory  opening  at  the  back. 
The  room  is  seen  at  an  angle,  the  upper  right 
hand  corner  being  the  deepest  point.  From  there 
the  rear  wall,  into  which  the  conservatory  opens, 
runs  at  an  angle.  The  conservatory  is  entered 
by  glass  doors.  In  the  extreme  right  hand  cor- 
ner of  the  rear  wall  is  the  service  door.  The 
right  wall,  center,  has  a  large,  handsome  fire- 
place service  table  of  mahogany.  The  left  wall 
is  taken  up  with  double  doors  entering  from 
the  drawing-room  and  a  large,  old-fashioned 
mahogany  sideboard. 

In  the  center,  parallel  with  the  rear  wall,  an 
oval  mahogany  table  of  old  design.  The  table 
is  laid  for  a  dinner  of  ten.  The  furniture  of 
the  room  is  mahogany  and  on  the  units  are  por- 
traits of  the  Lanham  ancestors.  The  whole  ef- 
fect of  the  room  is  heavy,  old-fashioned,  rich. 

TIME:  Just  before  dinner,  a  month  later  than  events 
in  Act  I. 

DISCOVERED:  At  the  rise,  FLORENCE  and  MRS.  LAN- 
HAM  arc  inspecting  the  table.  Both  are  dressed 
for  dinner.  McGiNNis  enters  R.,  takes  tray 
with  wine  bottles  from  serving  table  R.  and 
crosses  L.  and  places  same  on  sideboard.  Mc- 
GINNIS  wears  dress  coat  of  black,  with  brass 
buttons,  satin  knickerbockers  and  silk  stockings. 
52 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  53 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (R.C.)  Yes,  Dodson — I  think  the 
table  looks  quite  well. 

McGiNNis.  (In  carriage,  speech,  manner,  he  has 
become  the  model  butler)  Thank  you,  Madam. 

MRS.  LANHAM.    I  left  my  lorgnette. 

McGiNNis.  Here,  madam.  (Gets  it  from  side- 
board.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Now  bring  me  the  cards  and  I'll 
place  them — I  left  them (Stops.) 

McGiNNis.    On  the  desk  in  the  library,  Madam. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Yes,  of  course — that's  it.  (Mc- 
GINNIS  bows  and  exits  L.  MRS.  LANHAM,  with 
joy)  I  don't  know  how  I  ever  got  along  without 
that  man!  In  one  month  Dodson  has  become  the 
best  butler  I've  ever  had (Crosses  to  R.) 

FLO.     (L.)     But  suppose  I  don't  like  him? 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Then,  my  dear,  you  had  better 
marry  and  have  your  own  establishment. 

LANHAM.  (Enters  R.  Goes  back  of  table,  crosses 
doum  R.)  How's  your  table,  Mother? 

MRS.  LANHAM.     Everything  will  be  all  right  if 

your  daughter  will  let  me  alone (Down  below 

table.) 

LANHAM.  Florence,  how  many  times  have  I  told 
you  not  to  bully  your  poor,  weak  mother? 

FLO.     It  was  just  a  simple  thing 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Simple!  She'd  like  me  to  dis- 
charge Dodson (Right  of  table.) 

LANHAM.  Discharge  Dodson?  (Whistles — 
shakes  head.)  Oh,  Florence ! 

FLO.     But  I  just  can't  stand  the  man. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (Sternly)  Florence!  Don't  let 
me  ever  hear  you  speak  that  way  again.  Remember 
there  is  but  one  man  a  well-bred  woman  just  can't 
stand (Crosses  right.) 

LANHAM.  (To  FLORENCE)  Yes,  dear — her  hus- 
band. (Crosses  below  table  to  L.,  then  up  above 
table.) 


54  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FLO.     Oh,  or — a 

(McGiNNis  re-enters.) 

McGiNNis.  The  cards,  Madam (Hands  her 

cards — she  moves  over  to  table  to  place  them.) 

LAN  HAM.  Remember,  Mother,  this  dinner  must 
be  a  success.  Zack  Hart  has  come  down  to  talk 
over  some  very  important  business — it  means  a  lot 
to  all  of  us. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  I  don't  think  that  I've  ever  failed 
you  socially,  Archibald. 

LANHAM.  No,  my  dear,  you  never  have — so- 
cially. 

FLO.  How  are  you  going  to  place  them.  Mother? 
(Rises,  crosses  to  table.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Oh,  Billy  will  be  next  you 

(Places  cards,  seats  herself  at  lower  end  of  table 
D.S.)  My  place — Mr.  Hart  on  my  right 

LANHAM.    Then  Florence 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Nonsense — I'll  put  Billy  on  my 
left — then  Florence. 

LANHAM.     But  who  is  next  to  Hart? 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Archibald,  if  you  wish  to  ar- 
range the  table- 


LANHAM.     Not  at  all- 


MRS.  LANHAM.  Dodson,  place  this  card — Mrs. 
Smythe — next  to  Mr.  Hart 

LANHAM.  But (Crosses  to  MRS.  LANHAM 

down  c.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.  New  York  men  like  widows — 
they  know  more — or,  at  least,  can  afford  to  admit  it. 

LANHAM.     Hart  wants  to  talk  business. 

FLO.  Well,  he  can't  talk  business  too  fast  for 
Margie.  She  eloped  with  her  first  husband  when 
she  hadn't  known  him  a  week. 

LANHAM.  Oh,  very  well — fix  it  to  suit  yourselves. 
(Stalks  out  c.) 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  55 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Ill  place  Elizabeth  on  your 
father's  left  and  Bess  on  his  right.  She's  utterly  in- 
sipid. That  will  leave  his  mind  for  his  business. 
Dodson,  put  Mr.  Rutherford  between  Miss  Flor- 
ence and  Miss  Henderson — and  General  Mclnerny 
opposite — ah,  that's  settled.  Now  I'll  have  the  fire 
started  properly  and  look  at  the  candles  in  the  living- 
room.  (Starts  out  L.) 

FLO.  (Rises,  crosses  c.)  I'll  see  if  the  cocktails 
are  just  as  Daddy  likes  them. 

McGiNNis.  I've  already  fixed  the  cocktails, 
Miss. 

MRS.  LANHAM.    (At  door  L.)    And  Dodson 

McGiNNis.  Yes,  Madam — the  glasses  to  be  kept 
full — particularly  Mr.  Hart's 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Exactly — and  those  special  hick- 
ory logs  for  the  fire . 

McGiNNis.  Selected  them  myself,  Madam.  Any- 
thing else,  Madam? 

MRS.  LANHAM.  N — o If  there  is,  I'm  sure 

you'll  think  of  it.  (Exits.) 

McGiNNis.     Will  you  try  a  cocktail,  Miss? 

FLO.     No. 

McGiNNis.  Yes,  Miss.  (Goes  to  serving  table 
and  brings  down  a  cocktail  on  tray.)  Cocktail,  Miss? 
(McGiNNis  drinks  cocktail.)  Thank  you,  Miss. 
(She  turns  away  from  him — he  puts  down  the  glass 
on  tray  and  returns  same  to  serving  table.) 

FLO.  (Turns  back  with  determination)  Sam,  I 
want  to  talk  to  you- 


McGiNNis.    Yes,  Miss,  one,  moment,  please- 


(Stoops,  arranges  the  logs  of  the  fire,  rises,  facing 
her.)  Yes,  Miss (His  attitude  is  perfectly  re- 
spectful, perfectly  unemotional,  when  she  is  looking 
at  him,  but  behind  it  lies  the  humor  of  the  strong 
man  playing  with  a  child.  Only  when  she  isn't  look- 
ing he  mtist  show  his  heart-break — the  love,  the  long- 
ing  and  the  passion  of  a  man  making  a  desperate 


56  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

fight  far  his  happiness.  He  must  "put  it  over"  by 
gesture,  by  attitude,  by  facial  expression,  and  do  this 
only  when  she  is  not  looking.) 

FLO.  (L.)  Sam,  I  can't  stand  this  one  minute 
longer 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  Miss 

FLO.    Don't  say  "Miss"  to  me  again ! 

McGiNNis.  Yes,  M—  (Catches  himself  guilt- 
ily.) 

FLO.     (A  pause)    \\  ill  you  do  something  for  me? 

McGiNNis.  Buttling  under  your  mother  is  doing 
a  good  deal  for  you. 

FLO.     I  mean  something  else. 

McGiNNis.     Chauffeur  or  chef? 

FLO.    Sam,  I  want  you  to  give  up  this  place. 

McGiNNis.  (With  affected  horror)  Stop  but- 
tling   Oh,  Flo! 

FLO.     (In  horror)    I'm  not  laughing. 

McGiNNis.  No,  you  are  positively  heartless. 
Stop  buttling  when  I'm  learning  manners  so  fast — 
when  the  meals  are  so  regular  and  you  meet  so  many 
nice  people — that's  the  way.  No  matter  what  a  man's 
dreams  may  be — he  can  always  depend  on  his  wife 
to  wreck  them. 

FLO.  You  don't  mean  that  permanently  you — 
would 

McGiNNis.  Why  not?  It  is  an  ancient  and  an 
honorable  profession. 

FLO.  I  do  believe  you  have  the  soul  of  a  serv- 
ant  

McGiNNis.  I've  the  job  of  a  butler,  Miss.  I  am 
a  married  man — I  have  to  look  into  the  future.  (She 
crosses  angrily  to  left.)  So  far  it  has  been  quite 
amusing — and — er — lucrative.  In  case,  Miss,  you 
should  need  a  new  hat  or  even  a  fur  coat,  it  is  not 
above  our  means.  Mr.  Rutherford,  General  Mc- 
Inerny,  and  particularly  Mr.  Arkwright  have  all 
been  most  generous 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  57 

FLO.  You  mean  you've  taken  tips?  (Crosses 
back  of  him.) 

McGiNNis.  Taken  them?  I've  held  them  up — 
(Beams  on  her.) 

FLO.    That  decides  it !     I'm  going  to  divorce  you ! 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  Miss. 

FLO.  (Hysterical)  I  tell  him  I'll  divorce  him  and 

he  says,  "Yes,  Miss "  (Near  the  end  of  her 

rope.) 

McGiNNis.  (With  perfect  respect)  I  hope  you'll 
do  nothing  hasty,  Miss.  Mrs.  Lanham  is  very  con- 
servative— a  scandal  might  cost  me  my  place.  (He 
lanqhs.  FLO  laughs — almost  hysterical.) 

FLO.     Ha (Crosses  to  L.  of  table.) 

McGiNNis.  You  were  to  test  the  cocktails,  Miss. 
Better  let  me  get  you  one.  If  I  may  suggest,  they 
are  always  helpful. 

FLO.  Very  well — anything,  anything.  (McGiN- 
NIS  crosses  up  side  table,  FLO  below  table,  stands 
watching  him.  He  brings  her  a  cocktail.  She  drinks 
it  hastily.  Pauses — laughs.)  You  can  mix  a  cock- 
tail  • 

McGiXNis.  Very  sweet  of  you  to  say  so.  (Takes 
glass,  puts  it  down  on  sideboard.) 

FLO.  I  could  have  stood  everything — everything 
but  this Don't  you  see  the  position  you've  got- 
ten me  into?  Oh,  if  I'd  only  had  the  courage  to 
face  the  notoriety — the  unpleasantness — the 

McGiNNis  Yes,  Miss — I  was  afraid  you  would 
then — when  you  didn't  it  was  most  encouraging. 

FLO.  (Almost  in  tears)  I  thought  you'd  be  an 
utter  failure — a  joke — and  they  would  get  rid  of 
you  immediately. 

McGiNNis.     Only  you  forgot  my  army  training. 

FLO.  How  could  the  army  train  you  to  be  a  but- 
ler? 

McGiNNis.  Whenever  he  saw  the  General,  my 
Colonel  was  a  perfect  butler 


58  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FLO.  And  now,  to  make  it  worse,  you've  taken 
tips — from  my  friends — and  you're  my  husband — 

McGiNNis.  (Hastily,  to  justify  himself)  But  I 
assure  you  I'm  not  holding  out — you're  in  on  it. 

FLO.    What!    Oh! 

McGiNNis.  (Produces  book)  Here's  the  record 
— it's  all  for  you.  A  new  friend  of  mine  who  is  in 
the  barber  business  explained  it  to  me.  "All  tips  go 
to  the  old  woman." 

FLO.     Give  them  to  me — every  cent  at  once. 

McGiNNis.  (Suspiciously)  I  might  have  known 
it — what  are  you  going  to  do  with  them  ? 

FLO.     I  shall  return  every  penny. 

McGiNNis.  And  explain  they  were  collected  by 
your  husband? 

FLO.     Oh !     I 

McGiNNis.  Of  course,  you  can't.  Guess  I'd  bet- 
ter keep  this.  You  might  do  something  foolish — 
and  then  we  wouldn't  have  any  money  to  go  away 
on  our  second  honeymoon. 

FLO.     (Aghast)     Honeymoon  ? 

McGiNNis.  Yes,  quite  an  idea,  don't  you  think — 
to  have  your  wife's  admirers  pay  for  your  honey- 
moon? I  should  be  able  to  pick  up  quite  a  bit  to- 
night. 

FLO.  Don't  you  dare  to  take  another  cent  from 
those  gentlemen 

McGiNNis.  Oh,  I  say — have  a  heart,  Miss.  If 
they  are  making  love  to  my  wife,  I  ought  to  get 
something  out  of  it. 

FLO.    (Angrily)    He's  not  making  love  to  me. 

McGiNNis.  Then  he's  certainly  wasting  his 
money. 

FLO.  (Weakening)  What — what  makes  you 
think  he's  making  love  to  me? 

McGiNNis.  I  ought  to  say,  because  no  man  could 
help  it,  but  the  truth  is,  Tuesday,  when  I  came  into 
the  room  for  the  third  time  in  ten  minutes,  Mr.  Ark- 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  59 

wright  slipped  a  twenty-dollar  gold  piece — and  that's 
how  I  know,  Mrs.  McGinnis 

FLO.     (Turning  around  to  him)     Oh ! 

McGiNNis.  That's  what  I  said,  "Oh,  thank  you, 
sir,"  bowing.  "I'll  get  something  pretty  for  my 
wife" — sort  of,  you  know,  give  him  a  look  for  his 
money. 

FLO.     That's  outrageous. 

McGiNNis.    Now,  Mrs.  McGinnis 

FLO.  (Stamping  her  foot)  Don't  call  me  "Mrs. 
McGinnis " 

McGiNNis.  Yes,  Miss,  certainly,  Miss — only  don't 
get  yourself  all  ruffled  up — it's  not  becoming — no 
credit  to  me  for  standing  back  and  giving  all  these 
fellows  a  show.  (She  smiles.)  If  you  don't  look 
good  enough  for  any  husband — to  give  away.  (He 
crosses  to  right.) 

FLO.  (Forcing  her  sense  of  humor  to  her  rescue) 
I'd  like  to  box  your  ears 

McGiNNis.  (Goes  to  her)  I  dare  you — you 
haven't  the  nerve.  (FLO,  mi  sudden  impulse,  slaps 
him  soundly.)  Good,  that's  the  most  democratic 
thing  you've  done  yet.  It's  the  first  step. 

FLO.    To  divorce 

McGiNNis.  No,  to  love  and  happiness,  and  here's 

your  reward (Suddenly  seises  her — holds  her 

close  to  him.)  I'm  just  showing  you  I  could.  I'm 

not  kissing  you,  you  see (He  goes  R. — she  L. 

Releases  her  and  laughs.) 

FLO.  (Who  had  already  closed  her  eyes  and  set 
her  mouth,  ecstatically  expecting  to  be  kissed  against 
her  will — with  rage  and  disappointment)  I  hate  you 
_I f 

McGiNNis.      Tut — tut — tut!      (R.    below    table, 

I  her)     Careful — the  next  time  you'll 

forget   you're  a   lady — and   then   what    would    Mr. 

Rutherford  and  the  General  and  Mr.  Ark  wright  say? 


60  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

Talcing  those  poor  fellows'  money  and  then  making 
you  fall  in  love  with  your  own  husband 

FLO.  That  settles  it.  Now  I  wouldn't  go  back  to 
you  if  you  were  the  last  man  on  earth. 

McGiNNis.  The  last  man  on  earth — you  wouldn't 
have  a  chance. 

FLO.     Indeed ! 

McGiNNis.  Yes,  indeed — there'd  be  millions  of 
women — tall  ones  and  short  ones,  fat  ones  and  thin 
ones — ugly  ones  and  pretty  ones,  blondes  and  bru- 
nettes, washwomen  and  ladies  too — all  killed  in  the 
rush,  and  there  I'd  be  standing  with  me  arms  folded, 

observing  the  awful  tragedy (Stands  with 

pose.)  Go  to  it,  girls !  May  the  best  looker  win ! 

Oh,  no,  my  dear,  you  wouldn't  have  a  chance 

(Crosses  R.  of  table.) 

FLO.  (L.  lower  end  of  table.  Suddenly  breaks, 
sits,  half  sobs.  Impulsively  he  starts  toward  her,  all 
sorrow,  love  and  sympathy.  She  docs  not  sec)  That 
shows  what  you  really  think  of  me.  You'd  rather 
have  some  other  woman (She  sinks  into  chair.) 

McGiNNis.  I  didn't  say  that.  (Goes  to  her.  He 
is  behind,  almost  ready  to  take  her  in  his  arms.) 

FLO.  You  did!  Now,  if  you're  a  gentleman, 
you'll  give  me  cause  for  divorce.  Any  gentleman 
would. 

McGiNNis.  (Catches  himself  shrewdly)  Of 
course,  most  gentlemen  would,  long  ago,  but  you  see 
I'm  a  butler  and  butlers  are  essentially  moral. 

FLO.    (Exasperated)    Oh ! 

McGiNNis.  I  don't  see  what  you  have  to  com- 
plain of.  Your  husband  is  liberal  enough — lets  you 
play  with  the  handsome,  perfumed  Mr.  Rutherford. 

FLO.  Perfume !  Don't  be  ridiculous !  No  gentle- 
man uses  perfume.  I  wouldn't  speak  to  a  man  who 
used  perfume. 

McGiNNis.  And  General  Mclnerny,  with  his  in- 
teresting war  reminiscences 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  61 

FLO.  Tiresome  old  stories!  If  I  have  to  listen  to 
another  I'll  scream ! 

McGiNNis.   And  Billy  Arkwright,  the  caveman — 

FLO.  Mr.  Arkwright  is  a  gentleman — besides, 
he'd  be  ridiculous  that  way. 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  I  think  he  would 

FLO.  You  intend  to  force  me  to  do  something 
desperate 

McGiNxis.  Desperate?  You?  (Laughs.)  Why, 
you  couldn't  do  anything  desperate — you're  too 
afraid  of  Mrs.  Grundy.  You  were  born  conven- 
tionally— you'll  die  conventionally ;  if  you  are  di- 
vorced, you'll  be  divorced  conventionally.  The  only 
unconventional  thing  you  ever  did  you're  ashamed 
of — even  though  it  brought  you  the  greatest  happi- 
ness in  life. 

FLO.     Happiness  ? 

McGiNNis.  (Bending  over  her)  Yes,  happiness — 
one  week  of  perfect  joy.  The  one  thing  you  can't 
forget — the  one  thing  you  want  to  remember. 

FLO.  You're  right.  I  can't  forget  it.  I  wish  I 
could  because 

McGiNNis.     Because  you  love  me 

FLO.  No — because  I  love  another  man (She 

expects  a  jealous  outburst.  Instead  McGiNNis 
claps  his  hands  with  enthusiasm.) 

McGiNNis.     Good — splendid! 

FLO.    Then  you'll  help  me  to  be  free 

McGiNNis.  Help  you  to  be  free?  No — I  love 
you  more  than  ever. 

FLO.    Just  because  I  love  another  man. 

McGiNNis.  No — because  my  plan  is  working. 
Don't  you  see  you  are  losing  your  snobbishness? 
The  veneer  is  peeling  ofF — I'm  rV-iiv  you  over 
again  into  what  you  were — the  girl  I  knew  in  France. 
Soon  you'll  have  the  courage  to  obey  your  impulse, 
to  follow  vour  heart. 


62  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FLO.  (In  tone  of  inspiration)  I  believe  you're 
right — I  feel  it — I  do  believe  you're  right 

McGiNNis.  I  know  I'm  right,  and  when  you've 
gained  the  courage  to  follow  your  heart,  then 

FLO.    Yes, — then  I'll  elope  with  the  other  man. 

McGiNNis.     (Struck  dumb)     Huh! 

FLO.  (At  door)  Thank  you.  You've  shown  me 
myself.  I  can  never  thank  you  enough.  (Exits  L.) 

(NORA  enters  R.2E.) 

NORA.  Hey, — (McGiNNis  starts) — Lord  Alger- 
non! 

McGiNNis.     What  is  it,  Nora? 

NORA.    Too  proud  to  answer  the  front  door  bell  ? 

McGiNNis.     Bell? 

NORA.     Yes,  bell — b,  e,  double  1. 

McGiNNis.    Have  all  the  guests  arrived? 

NORA.  Yes,  I  just  let  Mr.  Rutherford  in — he's 
the  last  one.  (She  begins  placing  plates  containing 
cainar  on  table.) 

McGiNNis.  Well,  I'll  serve  the  cocktails.  (Exit 
R.2  for  cocktails.) 

NORA.  I  always  knew  when  we  got  a  butler  I'd 
have  twice  as  much  work  to  do — me  own  and  the 
butler's. 

(McGiNNis  enters,  and  exits  L.IE.  with  cocktails.) 
NORA.     Upstart ! 

(RUTHERFORD  enters  from  conservatory  in  orcrcoat 
and  silk  hat — looks  around  cautiously.) 

RUTHERFORD.     Dodson ! 
NORA.     What  is  it,  sir  ? 

RUTHERFORD.    I  want  to  see  Dodson,  Nora 

NORA.     (Gets  plates  from  tray  on  side  table  and 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  63 

places  them  on  table)  He  is  in  the  drawing  room 
serving  the  cocktails.  You'd  better  hurry  and  leave 
your  coat  and  hat  upstairs. 

RUTHERFORD.  Never  mind  the  coat  and  hat,  Nora. 
I'll  leave  them  out  in  the  conservatory  with  the 
Daffydills 

NORA.  You  can  suit  yourself,  sir,  but  you'd  bet- 
ter hurry.  (She  e.rits  R.) 

(RUTHERFORD  starts  up  as  though  to  exit  through 
conservatory.  McGlNNU  enters  L.IE.  and  starts 
across  to  R.2E. — RUTHERFORD  comes  down  L.  to 

McGlNNIS.) 

RUTHERFORD.    Dodson ! 
McGiNNis.    Yes,  sir! 

(RUTHERFORD  crosses  and  closes  the  door  L.) 

RUTHERFORD.  Just  a  second,  Dodson — I  want  to 
see  you  privately,  before  I  go  into  the  drawing- 
room. 

McGiNNis.    Yes,  sir. 

RUTHERFORD.  Dodson,  you've  given  me  some  very 
good  tips 

McGiNNis.    Yes.  sir,  it's  been  mutual. 

RUTHERFORD.  The  arrangement  can  continue. 
(Pause.)  Well  ? 

McGixxis.     (Pause)     Do  you  use  perfume,  sir? 

RUTHERFORD.    No — of  course  not. 

McGiNNis.    That's  a  pity. 

RUTHERFORD.    Why  ? 

McGiNNis.  Mi.->  Lanham  was  talking  about  that 
very  thing  just  a  few  minutes  ago. 

RUTHERFORD.  (Amazed)  She  likes  a  man  to  use 
perfume? 

McGiNNis.     Oh,  yes,  sir. 

RUTHERFORD.     Astonishing ! 


64  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

McGiNNis.     From  what  she  said,  sir — it  would 
settle  things  for  you  definitely- 


RUTHERFORD.     I  wonder  where  I- 


McGiNNis.  There's  some  upstairs  in  the  bath- 
room adjoining  the  room  where  your  coat  is,  sir. 

RUTHERFORD.  Thanks — that  is  a  tip  worth  hav- 
ing   (Gives  bill  to  McGiNNis.) 

McGiNNis.  So  is  this,  sir.  Thank  you — I'll  give 
this  to  my  wife. 

RUTHERFORD.  (Going  to  door)  Dodson,  I'll  come 

hack  after  dinner  smelling  like  a  rose (Exits 

up  L.C.; 

(The  GENERAL  enters  L.j 

McGiNNis.    Something  I  can  do  for  you,  sir? 

GENERAL.  (Pause)  Dodson,  I  don't  like  using 
you  as (Looks  around.) 

McGiNNis.  All  Generals  use  an  Intelligence  De- 
partment, sir 

GENERAL.  Er — yes.  (Pause.)  Anything  to  re- 
port? 

McGiNNis.  Yes,  sir — I  heard  her  speak  of  you 
tonight  with  a  great  deal  of  feeling 

GENERAL.     Indeed ! 

McGiNNis.  Yes,  sir — particularly  your  stories. 
If  you  could  tell  one  at  dinner,  a  long  one — heroic! 

GENERAL.     Dodson,  I'll  do  it 

McGiNNis.  I'm  sure  it  will  get  results.  (GEN- 
ERAL hands  him  a  bill.)  Oh,  thank  you,  sir,  I'll  give 
this  to  my  wife. 

(GENERAL  exits  L.IE.    BILLY  enters  from  conserva- 
tory L.C.) 

BILLY.     Oh,  Dodson! 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  65 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  sir. 

BILLY.  Dodson,  I  want  to  see  Miss  Lanham  to- 
night very  particularly — privately. 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  sir. 

BILLY.    Wherever  I  am,  see  I'm  not  disturbed. 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  sir. 

BILLY.    (Pause)    Dodson,  you  married  man? 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  sir. 

BILLY.  (Pause)  Dodson,  how  do  you  make  your 
wife  do  something  when  you  want  her  to  ? 

McGiNNis.     I  don't  think  I  understand,  sir. 

BILLY.  Course,  your  wife's  different  class — but, 
you  know  Kipling — great  man  Kipling — Judy 
O'Grady.  Colonel's  lady — all  women  all  the 
same 

McGiNNis.  Oh,  I  see,  sir.  Well,  I  treat  my  wife 
rough 

BILLY.     Treat  her  rough? 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  sir.     (Pause.) 

BILLY.     Can't  treat  a  lady  rough. 

McGiNNis.     Did  you  ever  try  it,  sir? 

BILLY.  N — o (Pause.)  Colonel's  lady, 

Judy  O'Grady — Kipling — great  man!  He  ought  to 
know.  You  say,  treat  them  rough? 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  sir. 

BILLY.  (With  wise  air — as  he  turns  and  crosses 
to  door  L.)  Watch  me 

McGiNNis.     I  will,  sir — carefully.     That  all? 

(  BILLY  crosses  left  to  door.) 

BILLY.  N-no (Crosses  back  to  L.  of  MC- 
GINNIS. Pulls  out  bill — hands  it  to  McGiNNis.) 
That's  all. 

McGiNNis.     I'll  give  this  to  my  wife. 


66  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

BILLY.  See  I  get  a  chance  to — (Starts  L.) — treat 
'em  rough!  Treat  'em  rough!  (Crosses  left  and 
e^it.  Walks  out  with  great  deal  of  dignity.) 

(NoRA  enters  R.U.E.) 

NORA.  The  dinner's  ready  and  the  cook  says  the 
things  will  spoil. 

McGiNNis.  All  right,  Nora — I'll  herd  them  in. 
(NoRA  exits  R.U.E.  McGiNNis  is  left,  opposite 
FLO'S  place  at  table — picks  up  BILLY'S  card — says) 
Billy  Arkwright!  (Then  picks  up  FLO'S  card  in 
place  of  MRS.  LANHAM,  saying)  This  way,  Miss 
Lanham!  (Goes  to  table,  picks  up  MRS.  SMYTHE'S 
card — then  along  to  Miss  ELIZABETH  LANHAM  ; 
puts  MRS.  SMYTHE'S  card  there;  picks  up  ELIZA- 
BETH'S card,  places  it  next  to  BILLY'S.)  Miss  Eliza- 
beth Lanham,  that  ought  to  help  some.  (Exits 
L.IE.) 

(McGiNNis  opens  doors.  Through  the  open  door 
the  furnishings  of  the  drawing-room  can  be 
seen.  As  the  door  opens  the  chatter  of  voices 
in  animated  conversation — a  slight  pause,  then 
the  guests  come  through  the  doors  into  the  din- 
ing-room. McGiNNis  follows,  closes  the  door. 
As  they  come  in,  all  are  talking.  Those  enter- 
ing are  MRS.  LANHAM,  ZACK  HART,  MRS. 
MARGARET  SMYTHE,  GEN.  MC!NERNY,  BILLY 
ARKWRIGHT,  FLO  LANHAM,  MRS.  BESSIE 
HENDERSON,  JACK  RUTHERFORD,  ELIZABETH 
LANHAM  and  MR.  LANHAM. 

(ZACK  HART  is  a  man  who  started  from  nothing  and 
at  fifty  is  a  big  figure  in  finance.  He  is  above 
medium  height,  rather  heavy,  with  a  bull-dog 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  67 

face  redeemed  by  keen,  shrewd  eyes  that  one 
minute  look  through  one  and  the  next  twinkle 
with  humor.  He  has  the  mental  snap  of  the  man 
used  to  quick  decisions,  but  the  quiet,  deliber- 
ate movements  of  a  big  man  assured  of  his  po- 
sition and  his  ability.  His  is  the  snobbishness  of 
ability  and  his  success  has  been  largely  due  to 
his  ability  to  kno^v  and  pick  winners  among  men. 
That  is  his  hobby. 

(MRS.  MARGARET  SMYTHE  is  close  to  thirty,  but 
looks  five  years  younger.  She  is  rather  tall, 
full-blooded,  full-bodied,  without  being  fat — 
that  may  come  later,  but  now  she  is  at  the  most 
attractive  period  of  her  life.  She  is  smart,  well- 
gowned,  daring,  a  woman  without  illusions.  She 
married  frankly  for  money  the  first  time  and 
now,  being  free,  feels'  the  desire  to  and  need  of 
•marrying  again  the  right  man,  and  she  will  do 
it. 

(BESSIE  HENDERSON  is  just  a  pretty  girl  like  a  mil- 
lion other  pretty  girls  of  the  same  birth  and  up- 
bringing.) 

GEN.  MclNERNY.  (As  he  enters)  And  that  was 
the  finish  of  the  story. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (With  conventional  laugh)  Most 
amusing.  ( The  others  laugh.) 

ELIZABETH.  (Hiding  a  bored  yawn)  Oh,  I  just 
adore  your  stories.  General.  Don't  you,  Billy? 

BILLY.  Well,  when  I  was  in  France  under  the 
General,  I  heard  a  great  many 

FLO.     I'm  sure  you  enjoyed  them  all? 

( BILLY  looks  at  her — makes  a  face.) 


68  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

BILLY.  The  younger  officers  always  enjoy  the 
General's  stories — it's  the  custom  in  the  army. 

FLO.     (Quickly)    You're  on  Mother's  left,  Billy. 

BILLY.    (Low)    Next  to  you  ? 

FLO.    (Affectionately)    Of  course,  silly 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (Hastily)  Will  you  take  this 
place  on  my  right,  Mr.  Hart?  (He  bows,) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Oh,  I'm  next  to  you (To 

HART,  delighted.) 

HART.  You've  been  next  to  me  from  the  moment 
I  saw  you.  (Holds  out  her  chair.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  I  hate  frank  men — they  are  al- 
ways such  liars. 

HART.  (Bending  low  and  looking  at  her  card) 
Just  for  that  you  shan't  sit  by  me. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Indeed — the  hostess  generally  ar- 
ranges that 

HART.    Yes (Indicates  card.) 

(On   the  other  side   BILLY  holding  out  chair  for 
FLO.) 

McGiNNis.  (In  low  tone)  Excuse  me,  Miss 
Lanham,  you're  on  the  other  side 

FLO.     But  I  fixed  it  myself. 

McGiNNis.  On  the  other  side.  Miss  Lanham — 
this  card  says  "Miss  Elizabeth  Lanham." 

HART.    You're  over  here,  by  me,  Miss  Lanham. 

FLO.  Yes — oh,  yes — isn't  that  jolly?  (Starts 
around  table.  Low  to  McGiNNis)  You  dared  to 
mix  those  cards? 

McGiNNis.    Yes,  Miss 

GENERAL.  Here  you  are  and  I  was  afraid  I  was 
going  to  lose  you (Holds  out  chair  on  his  Rj 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (As  the  women  straighten  them- 
selves out,  to  McGiNNis)  Who  mixed  the  cards? 

McGiNNis.    You  placed  them,  Madam 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  69 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Why,  why,  of  course — how  care- 
less. Next  time  you  place  them. 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  Madam. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  You  know,  you  aren't  placed  at 
all  as  I  arranged  you 

LANHAM.    Don't  worry — this  is  splendid,  Mother. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  And  if  it  isn't  as  you  want  it, 
why  not  make  it  progressive? 

LANHAM.     Oh,  I  say 

OTHERS.    Yes,  yes,  make  it  progressive ! 

FLO.  Precisely.  The  ladies  will  move  to  the  left 
after  every  course.  (Looks  at  McGiNNis  as  she 
says  it.) 

OTHERS.     (Led  by  BILLY)     Yes,  yes! 

ELIZABETH.    I  have  never  found  my  place. 

BILLY.    Here.    (Holds  out  chair  for  her.) 

(They  are  novj  seated.  MRS.  LANHAM  at  the  foot 
of  the  table,  nearest  the  front;  HART  on  her  R., 
then  in  order:  FLO,  GEN.  MC!NERNY,  MRS. 
SMYTHE,  LANHAM,  BELLE  HENDERSON,  RUTH- 
ERFORD, ELIZABETH  LANHAM  and  BILLY.  When 
they  are  finally  seated  there  comes  that  deadly 
pause  that  always  follows  the  seating  of  a 
party.) 

BILLY.  The  zero  hour!  (Immediately  all  begin 
chattering  violently.) 

ALL.  (Ad  lib.)  Pleasant  day — have  you  ever 
known  such  weather  as  we  are  having  this  winter? 
Yes,  indeed,  I  think  they  should  have  let  the  soldiers 
out  sooner.  Oh,  well,  you  know  Baker — I'm  a  Bol- 
shevik mvself. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (To  MRS.  LANHAM)  You  know 
you  have  one  thing  in  your  house  I'd  like  to  steal — 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Just  one  thing,  Margaret — what 
is  it? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.     Your  butler. 


70  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FLO.    The  butler?    Why,  Margie! 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Well,  if  I  had  him,  there's  only 
one  thing  I'd  be  afraid  of — some  one  of  my  guests 
would  elope  with  him. 

FLO.     Margie,  are  you  serious? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  The  best  looking  thing  I've  seen. 
Just  think  of  marching  into  a  ball  room  with  a  figure 
like  that 

LANHAM.  (Low)  I'll  tell  you  a  secret — I  fore- 
see a  series  of  dinners  just  to  show  Dodson  off — this 
is  his  debut. 

MRS.  LANHAM.    Sh — Archibald. 

(McGiNNis  and  NORA  begin  removing  the  oyster 
plates.) 

HART.  (Who  has  been  talking  low  to  FLO)  Oh, 
yes,  your  father  is  in  on  it — you  see  we  have  the 
rights  to  a  very  valuable  railroad  in  South  America — 
have  to  build  it,  of  course.  Just  waiting  to  begin 
work  when  we  can  secure  the  proper  man  to  put  it 
through.  Just  think  of  it — millions !  Waiting  on  the 
an 

GENERAL.  Should  have  thought  you'd  gotten  the 
man  almost  first. 

HART.  We  had  him  first,  but  German  efficiency 
spoiled  him. 

BILLY.    How  ? 

HART.     Belleau  Wood. 

FLO.     And  now 

HART.    We  have  to  find  another  engineer. 

(McGiNNis  re-enters,  looks  at  HART  sharply. 
HART,  zvithout  paying  particular  attention,  has 
been  keeping  an  eye  on  McGiNNis.) 

FLO.    Civil  engineer Why,  there  must  be  lots 

of  them. 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  71 

HART.  Yes,  thousands ;  but  the  man  we  want  can't 
be  just  a  civil  engineer — he  must  be  a  leader  of  men, 
a  diplomat,  and  a  two-fisted  scrapper  besides — one 
in  a  thousand,  because  it  is  a  thousand  to  one  against 
him. 

BILLY.    I  thought  this  was  a  progressive  dinner. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  So  it  is.  (Rises.)  Gentlemen 
remain  seated.  Ladies  change. 

(The  ladies  arise.  McGiNNis  and  NORA  are  remov- 
ing the  caviar  plates  and  beginning  to  bring  the. 
soup. ) 

FLO.    I  am  just  going  to  the  other  side,  you  know. 

BELLE.  (To  MR.  LANHAM)  I'm  just  going  to 
the  other  side. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (To  the  GENERAL)  I'm  just  go- 
ing to  the  other  side,  you  know. 

HART.     Oh,  there  you  are 

MRS.  SMYTHE.    You  can't  lose  me. 

(All  the  ladies  move  to  the  left,  FLO  taking  the  place 
at  the  foot  of  the  table  between  BILLY  and 
HART.  As  soon  as  FLO  is  seated,  BILLY  reaches 
over  with  his  right  hand — takes  her  left  hand 
under  the  table.) 

BILLY.  (Low — ardently)  Thought  you'd  never 
get  here! 

FLO.    (Softly)    Billy 

McGiNNis.  (At  left  of  BILLY)  Bread,  Mr. 
Ark  wright  ? 

(FLO  looks  up,  catches  McGiNNis's  eye,  looks  at  him 
defiantly,  and  does  not  take  her  hand  from 
BILLY.  BILLY  tries  to  take  the  bread  with  his 
left  hand.  McGiNNis  adroitly  moves  the  bread 
so  he  can't  yet  it.) 


72  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

McGiNNis.  (Low)  Better  use  your  right  hand, 
sir. 

BILLY.  Huh!  (Guiltily  drops  FLO'S  hand,  takes 
piece  of  bread,  puts  his  hand  back  to  FLO'S  hand 
again.  McGiNNis  steps  in  between  and,  as  BILLY 
reaches  for  FLO'S  hand,  McGiNNis  drops  napkin, 
catches  his  hand  in  his  and  gives  it  a  crushing 
squeeze.)  Ouch ! 

McGiNNis.  (With  great  dignity)  Pardon  me, 
sir — that's  my  hand. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.    Tough  luck.  Billy 

HART.  (To  FLO,  holding  out  hand)  May  I  offer 
mine?  (The  others  laugh.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Congratulations!  When  are  you 
going  to  announce  it? 

FLO.  Nonsense !  Billy  was  not  holding  my  hand ! 
(Holds  her  two  hands  above  the  table.) 

McGiNNis.     Bread,  Miss? 

FLO.     No.    (McGiNNis  exits  L.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  I  wouldn't  dare  put  my  hand  un- 
der the  table  now ! 

(McGiNNis  re-enters  with  the  glasses.  NORA  begins 
to  bring  in  the  soup.  BILLY  has  reached  over 
and  taken  FLO'S  hand  again  and  is  whispering 
to  her.  FLO  is  perfectly  brazen  in  her  encour- 
agement to  BILLY.) 

McGiNNis.     Telephone,  Mr.  Arkwright. 

BILLY.  Huh?  Oh,  telephone (Turns  to 

MRS.  LANHAM)  If  you'll  excuse  me (Rises — 

exits  left.  FLO  looks  at  McGiNNis,  showing  that 
she  doesn't  believe  the  telephone  messane.) 

McGiNNis.     You  wish  something,  Miss? 

FLO.     Nothing  that  you  can  give  me. 

McGiNNis.     Thank  you. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Who  has  been  talking  to  HAUT) 
But  why  haven't  you  ever  been  married  ? 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  73 

HART.  (In  voice  of  tragic  actor)  It  is  a  long  and 
tragic  story.  (MRS.  SMYTHE  beats  on  the  table.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Listen!  Listen!  Everybody 
hear  the  Hart  tragedy 

THE  OTHERS.     Hear!    Hear! 

HART.    Once  I  was  young  and  poor  and  in  love — 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Something  familiar  about  that 
start. 

OTHERS.     Sh ! 

HART.  She  was  the  prettiest  girl  in  our  town  and 
her  father  was  the  biggest  banker. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.    I  knew  I  had  heard  it  before. 

OTHERS.     Sh! 

HART.  He  intended  his  daughter  for  the  son  of 
the  second  largest  banker — then  they  would  consoli- 
date the  banks  and  live  happy  ever  after  on  other 
people's  monev. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.    George  Ade 

HART.  I  wish  you  wouldn't  let  your  jealousy  crop 
out 

OTHERS.     Go  on,  Mr.  Hart! 

HART.  I  went  awav  to  make  my  fortune,  but  I 
r->m°  hark  whenever  I  could  borrow  the  price.  One 
fright- fully  hot  summer  day  T  came  back  to  see  her. 
Mv.  that  was  a  hot  dav !  On  mv  wav  from  the  sta- 
tion T  stopned  at  the  florist  and  s^nt  her  flowers  with 
mv  card.  When  I  eot  to  the  hoM  I  learned  her 
father  was  dead,  and  I  was  particularly  glad  I'd  sent 
her  the  flowers.  They  were  putting  Papa  away  that 
afternoon. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.    I  don't  see  the  tragedy. 

(McGiNNis,   with   bottle,   stands  L.C.L.    of  HART, 
above  him.) 

HART.  Now  comes  the  tragedv.  My  flowers  got 
there  O.K. — so  did  a  hundred  others.  The  son  of 
the  second  largest  banker  put  my  flowers  on  Papa 


74  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

and  took  the  card  to  her  mother.  "From  Zack 
Hart,"  he  told  her.  "He's  a  nice  boy,"  she  said.  "I 
have  always  liked  him."  "Read  the  card."  And  to 
the  assembled,  grief -stricken  family  he  read  the  card 
I  had  sent  with  the  flowers  that  now  reposed  on 
Papa's  chest.  I  had  written,  "Just  a  little  some- 
thing to  help  you  through  the  heat." 

(General   laugh,      McGiNNis    comes    down,    pours 
wine,  refills  glass.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.     And  the  girl? 
HART.      The    next    week    they    consolidated    the 
banks. 

(  BILLY  re-enters. j 

BILLY.     Nobody  wanted  me  on  the  'phone. 

FLO.  (To  McGiNNis)  Did  anyone  want  Mr. 
Arkwright  on  the  'phone? 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  Miss,  a  man. 

FLO.  (Turns  to  HART)  You  know,  what  you 
said  about  your  railroad  interested  me  lots.  Is  Dad 
in  with  you? 

HART.    Yes — that's  why  I'm  down  here. 

FLO.  What  would  you  give  for  the  right  man  to 
put  it  through? 

(McGiNNis    crosses    back    to    table,    filling    wine 
glasses.) 

HART.     Almost  any  salary  in  reason. 
FLO.     Suppose  I  found  that  man? 
HART.    Which  one  of  your  suitors  do  you  want  to 
get  rid  of  ? 

FLO.     Nonsense 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  75 

HART.  There's  some  chance  of  the  man  not  com- 
ing back — fever,  natives,  the  rough-necks  he'll  have 
to  handle 

FLO.  Sometimes  I'm  afraid  the  man  I  have  in 
mind  can  handle — anything.  (Looks  at  McGiNNis, 
u'ho  hears  her  lines.) 

HART.     You  ? 

FLO.    (Her  head  coming  up)     No ! 

HART.  Huh — if  he  couldn't  handle  a  little  job 
like  that  I  wouldn't  want  him. 

FLO.     Oh! 

HART.  (To  LAN  HAM)  Miss  Lanham  and  I  were 
just  speaking  of  a  man  for  our  project 

LANHAM.  I'm  afraid  the  man  Flo  selected 
wouldn't  have  quite  the  manners  for  that  job. 

FLO.     Oh.  yes,  he  has — just  the  manners ! 

GENERAL.  There  was  A  Captain  in  my  division — 
didn't  know  him — but  he  would  have  been  just  the 
man  for  you.  Won  the  D.S.C. — named  McGin- 
nis. 

X 

(McGiNNis  starts  up  the  R.) 

LANHAM.  McGinnis Why,  that's  the  name 

of  our  butler.  (All  look  at  McGiNNis.)  McGinnis, 
what  was  your  rank  in  the  army? 

McGiNNis.  (Coming  down  to  R.  of  MR.  LAN- 
HAM)  Buck  private,  sir — but  I  know  Captain  Mc- 
Ginnis by  sight — same  regiment.  (FLO  sinks  back, 
relieved.) 

OTHERS.     (Disappointed)     Oh ! 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Oh,  I  am  so  disappointed — I 
hoped  that  he  was  Captain  McGinnis.  Wouldn't  it 
have  been  dramatic? 

HART.    Yes.  wouldn't  it,  Miss  Lanham? 

FLO.    (Mockingly)    Yes,  wouldn't  it  ?    But  things 


76  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

like  that  only  happen  on  the  stage.  (She  looks  him 
right  in  the  eye  and  they  both  smile  challengingly.) 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Tell  us  about  Captain  McGinnis, 
General. 

GENERAL.  It  happened  in  the  Argonne.  McGin- 
nis came  up  there  in  command  of  a  company  of 
doughboys.  He'd  been  cited  for  gallantry  at  San 
Mihiel,  but  was  under  a  cloud 

(FLO  is  sitting  very  tense  in  her  chair,  watching  Mc- 
GINNIS,  and  he  the  GENERAL.  McGiNNis 
stands  behind  MR.  LANHAM,  where  FLO  is 
bound  to  see  him.) 

FLO.    (Almost  under  her  breath)    Under  a  cloud  ? 

GENERAL.  Yes.  Something  about  a  girl.  Anyway, 
it  all  happened  at  some  little  village  where  he  was  in 
repose  between  San  Mihiel  and  the  Argonne,  but 
whatever  he  did  there,  he  redeemed  himself  glorious- 
ly. We  had  to  make  five  stabs  before  we  got 
through,  you  know.  The  Huns  held  us  four  times  in 
spite  of  all  we  could  do.  The  time  of  the  fifth  at- 
tack McGinnis's  company  was  down  to  sixty  men. 
He  was  cut  off — quarter  of  a  mile  ahead  of  any 
other  troops.  Three  times  he  crawled  back  himself 
and  carried  up  supplies  and  ammunition.  One  nest 
of  machine  guns  enfiladed  him  and  played  the  devil 
with  the  men.  They  couldn't  go  forward  and 
couldn't  go  back.  Finally  McGinnis  crawled  over  in 
the  night  with  three  men  and  located  the  nest.  He 
was  the  only  one  that  got  that  far,  and  he  jumped 
into  it  alone  just  at  daybreak.  Then  his  men  swept 
on,  but  it  was  too  late  for  him — he's  over  there. 
They  gave  him  the  D.S.C.  But  for  his  scrape  with 
the  woman,  he  would  have  probably  had  the  Con- 
gressional Medal  of  Honor. 

(After  the  start  of  the  story  McGiNNis  has  begun 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  77 

quietly  passing  the  soup.    Has  two  soups  on  the 
tray.) 

BILLY.    And  to  think  that  a  fellow  like  that  could 

throw  himself  away  on  that  kind  of  a  woman 

FLO.    (Startled)    What! 

(McGiNNis  gives  one  soup  to  MRS.  LANHAM  and 
stands  ready  to  serve  BILLY.  FLO  half  rises. 
McGiNNis  is  standing  behind  BILLY  unth  the 
soup.  As  FLO  half  rises,  he  couahs  and  pours 
the  soup  down  BILLY'S  back.  FLO  sits  down 
abruptly  as  BILLY  jumps  up.) 

BILLY.  What  the  devil !  Such  damed  awkward- 
ness! 

MRS.  LANHAM.  (In  horror)  McGinnis!  Dod- 
son ! 

McGiNNis.     Beg1  pardon,  sir (Bowing.) 

(In  the  excitement  the  curtain  falls  sharply  to  Mark 
the .) 


SCENE   II 


AT  RISE  :  McGiNNis  at  rise  is  placing  one  of  four 
chairs  which  are  down  stage  in  front  of  table, 
up  stage. 

McGiNNis.  What  can  I  do  for  you,  sir?  (To 
HART,  who  enters  L.IE.) 

HART.     You  might  shake  hands  with  me. 

McGiNNis.     I  don't  understand. 

HART.  (Walks  over — holds  out  hand)  I  want  to 
congratulate  you — Captain  McGinnis. 

McGiNNis.  Sorry,  sir,  you  are  mistaken — my 
name  is  McGinnis,  but  I  am  not  the  Captain  Mc- 
Ginnis. 

HART.  (Perfectly  unruffled)  I  don't  give  a  damn 
what  your  name  is — will  you  work  for  me? 

McGiNNis.    No,  sir. 

HART.    Ten  thousand  a  year  to  start. 

McGiNNis.    Then  you  don't  want  me  as  a  butler. 

HART.  No  butler  would  turn  down  ten  thousand 
dollars  a  year.  So  you  aren't  a  butler — 

McGiNNis.    No,  sir. 

HART.    Lord,  no,  as  a  civil  engineer. 

McGiNNis.  (Skeptically)  What  makes  you 
think  I  could  handle  a  transit  or  calculate  grades  and 
costs  ? 

HART.  (Laughs — McGiNNis  starts  R.  guiltily) 
Good!  You  are  McGinnis  and  you  are  an  engi- 
neer. 

McGiNNis.    You've  not  proved  that. 

HART.  No,  you  proved  it  when  you  blushed  like 
78 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  79 

a  schoolboy  at  the  old  General's  story  and  then  cov- 
ered Miss  Lanham's  confusion  by  pouring  the  soup 
down  that  young  fool's  back.  (Pause.) 

McGiNNis.     (Laughs)     You'll  say  nothing? 

HART.  Naturally.  Man,  it's  the  prettiest  propo- 
sition you  could  imagine — mines  beyond  the  dreams 
of  avarice,  to  be  developed,  and  five  hundred  miles 
of  railroad  to  be  put  through  the  darr/lest  country 

you  ever  saw (Involuntarily,  McGiNNis's  eyes 

sparkle,  his  face  lights  eagerly.)  Fifteen  thousand 
dollars  a  year  to  start  with — all  the  money  to  back 
you,  and  authority.  (A  big  pause.)  Can't  you  see 
it? 

MrGiNNis.  (Nods)  Of  course  I  can  see  it. 
(Pause.  Shakes  his  head.)  But 

HART.  Do  you  think  any  woman  is  worth  sacri- 
ficing your  future,  big  work,  and  twenty  thousand 
dollars  a  year  for? 

(MRS.  SMYTHE  enters  L.,  pauses  left  of  chmr,  L.C., 
hand  in  hair.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Oh.  there  you  are — I've  come  for 
you 

HART.  Good !  In  just  a  moment.  (To  McGiN- 
NIS,  who  has  crossed  to  door  R.)  You  haven't  an- 
swered that  last  question. 

MrGiNNis.  (In  tone  of  butler)  The  answer  is — 
yes,  sir.  T  do  think  so. 

("HART  shrugs  his  shoulders,  turns  to  MRS.  SMYTHE. 
McGiNNis  ex-its  through  pantry  service  door.) 

HART.     (Tn  MRS.  SMYTHE)     T  v.  

MRS.  SMYTHE.     (Crosses  to  him  below  table,  L. 

of  him)     I've  always  felt  that  there  was  some  man 

who  r<""1<*r1  me 

HMMT.    How  w*>1l  do  you  mak«  love? 


8o  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

MRS.  SMYTHE.     (L.C.)     W-e-11,  try  me. 

HART.     U — u — m. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Or  perhaps  you  prefer  referen- 
ces  

HART.     I  can't  afford  to  fail. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  You  don't  expect  me  to  say 
"yes"  before  you  ask  me? 

HART.  Oh,  Lord,  not  me — I  want  you  to  make 
love  to  a  butler. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  What!  But — well,  of  all  the — 
(Catches  herself.)  Show  me  the  butler ! 

HART.  Oh,  he's  a  very  superior  butler — just  re- 
fused twenty  thousand  dollars  a  year  to  work  for 
me. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Amazed)  Twenty  thousand  a 
year!  What  would  I  not  do  for  twenty  thousand 
dollars  a  year!  (Turns  to  c.) 

HART.  Come  here.  (She  comes  to  him.  He  puts 
his  mouth  close  to  her  ear  and  whispers  low,  fast. 
Her  face  shows  front.  Her  expression  changes 
from  curiosity  to  amazement,  keen  delight,  and  hu- 
mor. Finally  he  ceases,  she  throws  back  her  head 
and  laughs  heartily.  After  laugh  he  whispers  to  her 
again.  She  laughs.  Then  she  whispers  to  him.  He 
registers,  "No,  no!" — then  whispers  to  her.  Both 
laugh.  Aloud)  You'll  help  me? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Will  I?  You  bet  I  will!  I  owe 
her  one,  anyhow. 

HART.    You'll  have  to  work  fast. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  I  married  my  first  husband  the 
week  after  I  met  him. 

HART.  (Moving  away  from  her)  You  don't  say ! 
I'm  leaving  for  New  York  Saturday. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Two  days?  (Looks  at  him  specu- 
latively.  He  moves  farther  away.  They  move  a 
little  to  R.J  Some  woman's  going  to  have  a  lot  of 
fun  gentling  you. 


0 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  81 

HART.  Shell  have  her  work  cut  out  for  her — 
not  wishing  to  discourage  you. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Discourage?  You  know  you 
have  a  strange  effect  on  my  ambition? 

HART.  Your (Pauses,  with  uplifted  eye- 
brows.) Ambition  ?  (Pause.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.     (Faces  front)     Ha,  ha! 

HART.     Ha.  ha !     One  job  at  a  time. 

(McGiNNis  enters,  bringing  some  silver  which  he 
places  on  the  sideboard.  HART  nods  toward 
him,  then  starts  for  door  L.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Miss  Lanham  told  me  to  send 
you  immediately. 

HART.  I  fly !  I  fly !  (Hurries  toward  door  L., 
turns,  looks  significantly  at  MRS.  SMYTHE  and 
exits.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Sits  front  of  table — to  McGiN- 
NIS)  Would  you  give  me  a  glass  of  water,  please? 

McGiNNis.  Certainly,  Madam.  (Gets  the  glass 
of  water  from  serving  table,  brings  it  to  her.  She 
drinks  the  water,  looking  at  him  over  the  glass. 
Holds  the  glass  in  her  hand — does  not  replace  it  on 
waiter.)  Was  that  all.  Madam? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Yes,  that'll  be  all.  (He  takes  the 
glass  back  to  the  sending  table.)  Why  don't  you  let 
a  woman  help  you  ? 

McGiNNis.  (Startled — drops  glass  on  tray) 
What !  Beg  pardon,  Madam. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  I  said — why  don't  you  let  a  wo- 
man help  you.  Captain  McGinnis? 

McGiNNis.  (With  unconscious  resentment  and 
hauteur)  You've  made  a  mistake,  Madam. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.     (Rises,  bows  to  him  with  mock 


82  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

humility)  Please  don't  be  alarmed,  sir;  my  inten- 
tions are  perfectly  honorable.  (He  looks  at  her — 
she  looks  at  him.  Slowly  a  grin  spreads  over  his 
face.  She  smiles,  too.)  There's  that's  better.  (A 
pause.)  Have  I  made  a  successful  "pick  up"? 

McGiNNis.  (Bows  low)  It  does  me  great  honor, 
Madam,  to  be  added  to  your  collections.  (She 
smiles.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Good!  I  knew  I'd  like  you! 
You  see,  it's  the  first  time  I  ever  flirted  with  a  but- 
ler. Even  a  make-believe  butler — so  forgive  me  if  I 
do  it  rather  badly. 

McGiNNis.  (Falling  into  her  mood)  Like  a  sol- 
dier called  by  the  great  Russian  Queen,  I  await  your 
pleasure. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Looking  at  him  with  critical  ad- 
miration and  speaking  in  perfectly  matter-of-fact 
tone)  You  know,  I  think  I  like  you. 

McGiNNis.  Do  you  think  it's  fair  game  for  a 
lady  to  try  to  make  a  fool  of  a  butler? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  I  think  it's  fair  game  for  a  lady 
to  make  a  fool  of  anybody — if  she  can. 

McGiNNis.     If  she  can 

MRS.  SMYTHE.     Can  she? 

McGiNNis.     That  depends. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  If  one  knew,  what  would  be  the 
fun  in  the  adventure ? 

(He  starts  involuntarily.  She  smiles.  The  door 
starts  to  open.  With  a  quick  look  McGiNNis 
sees  FLO  entering.  He  bends  toward  MRS. 
SMYTHE  almost  loverlike.) 

McGiNNis.  (Sees  FLO  and  plays  up  to  MRS. 
SMYTHE)  What  a  pity  we  didn't  meet  sooner ! 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  83 

(Fix)  gasps — starts.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  A  late  start  makes  for  speed — 
don't  you  think  ? 

FLO.     (Astounded)     Well!     Margie! 

(McGiNNis,  with  exaggerated  guilty  look,  begins 
looking  about  the  dining  room.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Oh,  that  you,  dear?  I  was  just 
having  a  most  charming  chat  with  your  butler. 

FLO.     Indeed ! 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Yes,  indeed.  You  know — (Low- 
ers her  voice  to  confidential  tone) — since  the  eve- 
ning I  met  my  first  husband,  I  don't  know  when  I've 
been  so  thrilled  !  My  dear — he's  adorable !  Mc- 
GINNIS  straightens  up.)  I  can  hardly  wait  to  see 
him  in  evening  clothes.  • 

FLO.     Evening  clothes ! 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Of  course,  my  dear!  Evening 
clothes,  that's  the  test  of  a  man. 

McGiNNis.     St.  Patrick!     (Exits  to  K.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Crossing  to  L.)  Tomorrow 
night  he's  coming  to  call 

FLO.  Coming  to  call My (Starts  to 

say  "husband" — catches  herself.)  — butler— on 
you? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Perfectly  matter-of-fact  tone) 
Certainly — on  whom  else  ?  Rush  dinner  a  little,  will 
you?  That's  a  dear  child — so  the  poor  fellow  can 
get  away  early. 

(McGiNNis  re-enters,   and  crosses  to  R.,   opening 
door  for  MRS.  SMYTHE.) 


84  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FLO.  I'm  sorry,  but  it's  Dodson's  night  in. 
(Crosses  to  R.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (At  door  L.J  Oh,  I'll  wait  for 
him.  Don't  forget  me — butlerman 

McGiNNis.  I'll  be  there,  Madam.  (Closes  door 
after  her.) 

FLO.  (Crosses  L.  to  him — in  fury)  What  did 
that  woman  say  to  you? 

McGiNNis.  I'm  sorry,  Miss,  but  that  is  a  private 
matter 

FLO.  She's  trying  to  make  a  fool  of  you 

(He  gets  her  attitude  instantly  and  plays  his  cards.) 

McGiNNis.  Oh,  no,  Miss,  I  hardly  think  so.  She 
seemed  a  very  kind,  sweet-spoken  lady 

FLO.     (Crosses  to  R.c.J     Kind!     Sweet-spoken! 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  and  so  beautiful! 

FLO.  She  kidnapped  her  first  husband  the  week 
she  met  him. 

McGiNNis.  Honestly?  (Looking  off  L. — a  smile 
of  delightful  anticipation  spreads  over  his  face.) 

FLO.  (Cuttingly)  From  your  expression  I  sup- 
pose you  imagine  she'll  elope  with  you? 

McGiNNis.  A  few  minutes  ago  you  were  going 
to  elope  with  some  one.  Well,  if  that's  the  custom 
of  the  smart  set 

FLO.     Oh ! 

McGiNNis.  It's  strange  more  women  don't  real- 
ize how  interesting  the  purely  natural  woman  with- 
out veneer  or  snobbery  can  be. 

FLO.    (R.C.)    Natural !    Not  even  her  hair  is  that ! 

McGiNNis.    What  is  hair  beside  a  soul? 

FLO.    (Crosses  to  him)    I  think  you've  gone  mad  ! 

McGiNNis.    (Dreamily)     I  wonder! 


CIVILIAN    CLOTHES  85 

FLO.  (Going  to  him)  Now,  see  here,  Sam  Mc- 
Ginnis 

McGiNNis.  Beg  pardon,  Miss,  are  you  address- 
ing me  in  my  professional  or  personal  capacity  ? 

FLO.     (Witn  anger)     Personally 

McGiNNis.  (Turns  back  on  her)  Then  speaking 
personally  and  professionally — sauce  for  the  goose 
is  sauce  for  the  gander,  and  I  don't  propose  that  you 
shall  have  all  the  gravy  for  this  family.  As  a  mar- 
ried man,  I'm  entitled  to  my  share,  and  I'm  going 
to  get  it — it's  up  to  you 

FLO.     (Enraged  and  dumbfounded)     Well,  I 

McGiNNis.  Of  course,  as  you  have  three,  I  sup- 
pose I'll  have  to  do  three  times  as  much.  (Bright- 
ens.) Well,  I  think  we  can 

FLO.  (With  amazement,  rage,  fear  and  unwilling 
admiration)  We'll  see— — 

( BILLY  enters.    He  is  speaking  to  himself  as  he  en- 
ters.) 

BILLY.  (To  himself)  Treat  'em  rough!  (Makes 
extravagant  gesture  to  McGiNNis  to  get  out.  MC- 
GINN is  realizes  the  situation,  smiles  and  exits  to 
butler's  pantry.  FLO  turns  to  BILLY,  surprised. 
BILLY,  with  exaggerated  savagery)  Sit  down! 
(FLO,  amazed,  sits  suddenly.  BILLY  turns  toward 
audience  with  grin  on  his  face.)  Treat  'em  rough ! 

FLO.  (Having  recovered  from  her  amazement, 
jumps  to  her  feet,  angry  that  she,  without  thinking, 
obeyed  him)  Billy  Arkwright,  what  under  the  sun — 

BILLY.  (Looking  around  stage  with  exaggerated 
dignity)  Sun?  Where  is  the  sun?  (Shaking  his 
finger,  sternly)  Flo.  I  am  not  going  to  stand  the — 


86  CIVILIAN    CLOTHES 

FLO.  (Suddenly,  sharply)  Sit  down!  (BILLY 
flops  into  chair,  surprised.  FLO  starts  going  toward 
pantry.)  I  know  what  you  need.  Dodson!  (Cross 
L.C.  McGiNNis  enters.)  Dodson,  take  Mr.  Ark- 
wright  out  and  give  him  a  bromo  seltzer. 

McGiNNis.  (Bows)  Yes,  Miss.  If  you  please, 
sir. 

BILLY.  (Rises  with  dignity)  All  right — if 
that's  the  way  you  feel  about  it.  (Moves  toward 
pantry  with  McGiNNis.  As  he  goes  out)  Dodson, 
your  advice's  no  good (FLO  looks  at  him  sharp- 
ly.) You  and  Kipling  all  wrong.  Can't  treat  a  lady 
rough — won't  allow  you. 

McGiNNis.     Yes,     sir — yes,     sir.     (Exits    with 

BlLLY.J 

(RUTHERFORD  enters  door  L.     Business  with  hand- 
kerchief.) 

RUTHERFORD.     Hello,  been  looking  for  you. 

FLO.  (Backing  away  from  him)  What  have  you 
been  doing  to  yourself  ? 

RUTHERFORD.  Nothing.  Why?  Come  into  the 
conservatory.  I  want  to  talk  to  you. 

FLO.  Conservatory?  No,  thanks,  you're  sweet 
enough  without  the  flowers. 

RUTHERFORD.    But,  Flo 

FLO.  Keep  away  from  me.  Is  it  just  hair  tonic 
or  is  it  some  of  that  awful  French  perfume  ? 

RUTHERFORD.  Why,  I  put  it  on  for  you.  Don't 
you  like  it  ? 

FLO.  I  hate  it.  I  hate  everything  like  that  and 
you  know  it. 

RUTHERFORD.  (Turning  to  L.  and  clenching  his 
fists)  Confound  that  butler ! 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  87 

FLO.  (Follounng  him  a  step)  What  has  the  but- 
ler to  do  with  it? 

RUTHERFORD.     Nothing — absolutely  nothing. 

FLO.  Jack  Rutherford,  how  much  did  you  tip 
Dodson  for  making  a  fool  of  you? 

RUTHERFORD.  (In  a  rage)  I  know  what  I'm  go- 
ing to  tip  him ! 

(The  GENERAL  enters.) 
GENERAL.     Ah,  Miss  Lanham 

(Handkerchief  business  by  RUTHERFORD.  He  rubs 
handkerchief  across  the  GENERAL'S  shoulders. 
FLO  turns  to  door  of  pantry.) 

FLO.  Yes,  General.  Just  a  second.  (FLO  goes 
down  to  right.  McGiNNis  goes  c.,  followed  by 
BILLY  with  bromo  seltzer  to  his  tips.)  Dodson,  re- 
turn to  these  gentlemen  the  money  they  gave  you  to- 
night. 

ALL.  (Confused,  except  McGiNNis)  Money, 
what  money? 

FLO.  The  money  you  gentlemen  paid  Dodson  for 
making  fools  of  you. 

RUTHERFORD.    Now  listen,  Flo 

GENERAL.    Miss  Lanham 

(BILLY  drops  the  glass  and  gulps.) 

FLO.    Return  the  money,  Dodson. 

McGiNNis.  (Crosses  to  the  three  men)  Yes, 
Miss.  (The  three  men  stand  like  whipped  school- 
boys, pictures  of  embarrassed  men.  McGiNNis  pro- 
duces his  notebook  and  bills.  Reads)  "Mr.  Ruth- 
erford— for  information  that  Miss  Lanham  likes  a 

man  to  use  strong  perfume,  five  dollars " 

(BiLLY  and  GENERAL  burst  into  a  laugh.  RUTHER- 


88  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FORD  holds  back.  FLO  motions — he  takes  the  money 
unwillingly.) 

RUTHERFORD.  (As  the  others  laugh)  Wait !  (In 
protest  to  FLO,  with  the  money  still  in  his  hand.)  He 
hung  it  on  me  fairly — he's  entitled  to  the  money. 

FLO.    Take  that  money  for  more  perfume. 

RUTHERFORD.  I  don't  use  it  any  more.  (Takes 
money.) 

GENERAL.    Really,  Miss  Lanham,  I  object. 

McGiNNis.  "General  Mclnerny — for  informa- 
tion that  Miss  Lanham  loves  stories  of  General  Mc- 
lnerny's  heroism — two  dollars."  (GENERAL  snatches 
his  money  and  sticks  it  in  his  pocket.) 

RUTHERFORD.    Piker — two  bucks ! 

McGiNNis.    "Mr.  Arkwright — twenty  dollars." 

RUTHERFORD.  Say,  he  must  have  given  you  an 
earful.  (Down  c.  with  BILLY  R.  of  him.) 

FLO.  Now,  gentlemen,  thanking  you  one  and  all 
for  your  kindnesses 

GENERAL.  Really,  I  think,  Miss  Lanham,  I'll  say 
good  night. 

FLO.  (Shaking  hands)  Good  night,  General! 
I've  enjoyed  your  stories  so  much ! 

RUTHERFORD.  (Crosses  to  FLO  c.)  Good  night, 
Flo.  Have  lunch  with  me  tomorrow — got  five  dol- 
lars. 

FLO.  You  incorrigible !  (Shakes  hands.  RUTH- 
ERFORD turns,  goes  out.) 

RUTHERFORD.  (Crosses  to  BILLY)  Good  night, 
William — Sweet  William!  (Rubs  handkerchief 
across  BILLY'S  shoulders  and  exits.) 

(FLO  turns  to  BILLY,  who  stands,  the  picture  of 
glum  anger.) 

McGiNNis.    Anything  else,  Miss? 

FLO.     I'll  speak  to  you  later. 

McGiNNis.    Yes,  Miss (Starts  to  turn  avuy 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  89 

L.,  turns  back.)  Beg  pardon,  Miss,  but  will  there 
be  any  guests  for  dinner  tomorrow  night  ? 

FLO.  (In  involuntary  anger  at  his  cool  laughing 
at  her)  Oh! 

BILLY.  Feeling  there  is  something  between  them, 
not  knowing  what  it  is)  Flo,  I'm  not  going  to  per- 
mit a  blamed,  impertinent  butler  to — to (Like 

a  flash  McGiNNis  turns  on  him.  The  air  of  a  butler 
drops  from  McGiNNis.  He  stands,  instead,  drawn 
up  to  his  full  height,  the  fighting  Captain  of  dough- 
boys facino  an  inferior  officer — speaks  aut  sharply  in 
the  tone  of  the  drilling  ground.) 

McGiNNis.  Mr.  Arkwright!  Attention!  (In- 
roluntarily  his  nrmv  training  asserts  itself.  BILLY 
snaps  to  attention  and  stands  rigid  before  his  supe- 
rior officer.  The  two  face  each  other,  not  as  civil- 
ians, but  as  captain  and  lieutenant.) 

BILLY.  (In  tone  of  amasement)  Who  are  you  to 
speak  to  me  in  that  way? 

McGiNNis.  I  was  a  Captain  of  Infantry  at  San 
Mihiel. 

BILLY.  (With  sarcasm)  You  a  Cantain?  (Mc- 
GINNTS  reaches  in  pocket,  takes  o:if  D.S.C.,  shows 
it.  In  tone  of  amazement  and  umw'lling  admiration, 
looks  at  the  cross  hi  his  hand.)  The  Distinguished 
Service  Cross!  (Hands  it  back  to  McGiNNis.  looks 
from  McGiNNis  to  FLO  and  back  to  McGiNNis.) 
So  you  were  that  Captain,  sir? 

McGiNNis.  Yes — and  now  it's  cards  on  the  table 
between  you  and  me!  ( BILLY  exits.) 

FLO.  Say  it!  Say  it!  (He  keeps  silent,  which 
onlv  adds  to  her  anger.)  You  won't?  All  right. 
I'll  say  it  for  you !  Only  tonight  you  humiliated  me, 
insulted  me!  Oh,  I  told  you  what  I  felt  when  you 
first  came  back!  I  knew  this  wouldn't  work  out! 
Oh,  I  was  a  fool !  A  fool !  (She  is  on  the  verge  of 
angry  tears.) 


90 

McGiNNis.  (Loses  his  temper  momentarily) 
You  are  acting  very  much  like  a  fool  now ! 

FLO.  I'm  not!  I  have  been,  but  I've  waked  up! 
I  see  clearly !  I  know  what  I'm  going  to  do ! 

McGiNNis.  (Exasperated)  Sometimes  I  almost 
wonder  if  you're  worth  it! 

FLO.  Huh — wonder!  I  don't  wonder — I  know! 
I  knew  the  moment  I  saw  you  I'd  make  an  awful 
mistake.  You  harp  on  promises !  All  right.  I  re- 
member a  promise  you  made — the  promise  you  made 
when  you  agreed  to  this  thing !  Now  I  hold  you  to 
it.  Now  make  good. 

McGiNNis.     What  promise? 

FLO.  The  promise  to  go  away — say  nothing — let 
me  get  a  divorce  quietly 

McGiNNis.  And  then  make  the  greater  mistake 
of  marrying  that  boy.  No ! 

FLO.     You  go  or  I  go. 

McGiNNis.    You'd  tire  of  him  in  a  week. 

FLO.    What  are  you  going  to  do? 

McGiNNis.  I'm  going  to  admit  we  both  have  been 
fools — announce  our  marriage  and  bring  you  to  your 
senses. 

FLO.  What!  (Stares  at  him,  horrified — low — 
crosses  R.J  Oh,  I  hate  you ! 

McGiNNis.  (Follows  her — suddenly  takes  her  by 
the  shoulders,  gives  her  a  little  shake)  I'm  going  to 
make  you  love  me.  Understand  ?  Love  me !  Love 
me !  (Losing  control  of  himself,  he  pulls  her  to  him, 
kisses  her  several  times.) 

FLO.  (Fighting  herself  free)  Don't,  don't,  don't! 
You'll  give  me  grounds  for  divorce  or  I'll  give  you 
grounds  for  divorce. 

McGiNNis.     (Laughs)     Oh,  no,  you  won't! 

FLO.  I  will — I  will!  (As  she  rubs  her  hand  vio- 
lently across  her  mouth  and  rushes  from  the  room 
R.U.  just  as  her  mother  and  MR.  LANHAM,  followed 
by  HART,  enter  excitedly.) 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  91 

MRS.  LAN  HAM.    Is  this  true? 

McGiNNis.    What,  Madam? 

MR.  LANHAM.  Mr.  Arkwright  tells  us  that  you 
are  Captain  McGinnis. 

McGiNNis.     Yes,  Madam. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  A  Captain  in  the  Army  for  our 
butler.  Oh,  my !  (Looks  at  him,  almost  overcome 
with  amazement  and  pride.)  I — don't  know  what  to 
say 

McGiNNis.  I  don't  see  there's  any  necessity  of 
saying  anything,  Madam,  so  long  as  I'm  giving  satis- 
faction. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  You  mean — you  mean  you're  go- 
ing to  stay? 

McGiNNis.  Do  you  know  of  any  reason  why  I 
shouldn't? 

MRS.  LANHAM.     N — no — n — no 

LANHAM.  Nonsense!  If  she  doesn't  know  any 
reason, I  do ! 

McGiNNis.     What? 

LANHAM.  The  simple  reason  I  don't  want  you 
any  longer! 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Discharge  Dodson — McGinnis — 
Dodson  ?  You  shall  do  no  such  thing. 

LANHAM.     But 

MRS.  LANHAM.  Don't  think  for  one  instant,  Ar- 
chibald, that  I  shall  permit  you  to  interfere  with  my 
domain.  Captain  McGinnis  is  a  brave  soldier — he's 
a  hero. 

LANHAM.  I  appreciate,  Mother,  the  social  ad- 
vantage of  having  a  hero  as  a  butler,  but  all  the 
same.  Dodson  is  discharged,  for  the  reason  that  Cap- 
tain McGinnis  is  going  to  work  for  Mr.  Hart  and 
myself ! 

HART.    At  twenty  thousand  dollars  a  year 

MRS.  LANHAM.   '(Sits  down  abruptly,  says)   Good 


gracious 


McGiNNis.     I'm  sorry,  Mr.  Lanham,  but  I've  al- 


92  CIVILIAN    CLOTHES 

ready  discussed  that  matter  with  Mr.  Hart  and  for 
the  present  I  prefer  my  present  position. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  There — I  knew  he  was  loyal — I 
knew  he'd  do  the  wise  thing! 

(NoRA  enters  abruptly  from  the  service  door.) 

NORA.  (Rushing  on  from  pantry)  Mrs.  Lan- 

ham — Mrs.  Lanham (All  look  up,  startled.) 

Miss  Florence,  ma'am 

LANHAM.    Good  God,  nothing's  happened  to  her! 

NORA.    She's  gone,  sir! 

McGiNNis.    Gone? 

LANHAM.    Gone  where? 

NORA.     She's  gone  with  Mr.  Billy. 

MRS.  LANHAM.     Oh,  Archibald,  go  after  them! 

LANHAM.    Now,  my  dear — don't  get  excited. 

MRS.  LANHAM.  She's  your  daughter,  Archibald, 
your  daughter!  (They  exit  ad  lib.  L.I.) 

HART.     What  are  you  going  to  do,  McGinnis? 

McGiNNis.     Do?    I'm  going  to  take  your  job! 

HART.     (They  shake  hands)     Good ! 

McGiNNis.  And  I'll  bet  you  a  year's  salary  that 
I'll  be  the  best  man  at  the  wedding ! 

CURTAIN 


ACT  III 

SCENE:    Hotel  parlor  in  Hotel  Grunewald.     Win- 
dows L.,  two  entrances  rear  on  corridor,  one  en- 
trance R.  to  hotel  lobby.) 
Evening  of  the  second  day. 

(HART,  in  evening  clothes,  smoking  moodily,  seated 
R.  of  table,  reading  paper.  Colored  boy  enters 
•J 

BOY.    Yas,  sah !    Here  I  am,  sah ! 

HART.  Did  you  find  out  about  that  train  ?  (Seated 
R.  of  center  table.) 

BOY.  Yes,  sah.  De  I.  C.  from  Louisville  is  twen- 
ty hours  late  on  'count  o'  high  water.  You  come 
down  on  the  L.  &  N. — that's  how  you  happen  to 
beat  'em  in.  De  trains  dat  oughtta  got  in  las'  night 
jest  comin'  in  now,  sah.  I  reckon  de  two  trains,  las' 
night's  and  tonight's,  comin'  in  pretty  near  together. 

HART.  Huh!  (Pause.)  And  did  you  find  out 
about  Mr.  Arkwright? 

BOY.  No,  sah,  dey  ain't  no  sech  gen'leman  stop- 
pin'  in  de  hotel.  Den  I  rung  up  de  St.  Charles  and 
he  ain't  here  neither,  but  the  clerk  here  says  Mr. 
Arkwright  telegraphed  from  Memphis  for  a  room 
for  hisself . 

HART.  Anybody  else  on  that  train  wire  for  a 
room? 

BOY.    Yes,  sah.    A  lady  done  wire  too. 

HART.     Is  a  room  reserved  for  her  in  this  hotel? 

BOY.    Yes,  sah. 

HART.  (Reaches  in  his  pocket,  pulls  out  a  dollar 
and  hands  it  to  the  boy.)  All  right,  George  Wash- 
ington— let  me  know  the  moment  they  arrive. 

93 


94  CIVILIAN    CLOTHES 

BOY.  Yassah.  'Scuse  me,  boss.  I  ain't  George 
Washington.  Dat's  de  other  boy.  I'se  Lafayette. 

HART.     (Rises)     Excuse  me,  General  Foch. 

BOY.  Yes,  sah.  (Exits  just  as  McGiNNis  enters 
R.I  and  crosses  down  to  HART.J 

McGiNNis.    No  trace  of  them  yet? 

HART.  (Sits)  Haven't  heard,  have  you?  (Mc- 
GINNIS  shakes  his  head  and  crosses  up  R.C.,  looks 
off  to  R.)  Don't  you  think,  my  boy,  you're  wasting 
your  time  ? 

McGiNNis.  (Crossing  down  toward  HART,)  What 
do  you  mean  ? 

HART.  A  man's  a  fool  to  allow  any  woman  to  up- 
set him  when  he  has  big  work  to  do.  Forget  her. 

McGiNNis.  (Crossing  up  to  arch  R.c.j  Don't 
you  think  you're  wasting  your  time  ? 

HART.    What  do  you  mean? 

McGiNNis.  A  man  is  a  fool  that  tries  to  regu- 
late another  man's  life  when  he  knows  he  can't  do  it. 

HART.  I  agree  with  you.  I  don't  care  whether 
it's  any  of  my  business  or  not.  (Rises.)  I  don't 
propose  to  see  you  spoiling  your  life  over  a  woman 
that's  not  worth  it. 

McGiNNis.  But  you  see,  I'm  not  spoiling  my 
life,  because  she  is  worth  it  to  me. 

HART.  Now  see  here,  Sam.  I'm  an  older  man 
than  you  and  if  you  take  my  advice 

McGiNNis.  (Interrupting  quietly,  as  he  looks  off 
arch  c.)  All  the  mistakes  in  the  world  come  from 
taking  the  other  fellow's  advice. 

HART.  (Crossing  up  c.)  All  rierht — that  settles 
it.  I'm  throueh.  (Throwing  ut>  Jvs  hands — rises, 
crosses  up  to  c. )  But  it  mav  interest  you  to  know — 

McGiNNis.  (At  arch  R.J  Yes,  wired  from  Mem- 
phis. I  knew  it  hours  as^o. 

HART.  (Crosses  front  of  table  to  L.  of  it.  then 
above  table  to  R. )  We  can't  hold  up  millions  of  dol- 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  95 

lars  to  suit  the  convenience  of  your  love-affairs,  you 
know. 

McGiNNis.  (Crosses  from  arch  R.  to  below 
table)  You  can  always  get  another  boy. 

HART.  (Crosses  quickly  down  L.  to  front  of  table, 
facing  McGiNNis  and  speaking  in  conciliatory  tone) 
Oh,  come,  you  know  I  didn't  mean  that. 

McGiNNis.  (Crosses  up  to  R.  of  table  to  R.cJ 
Then  trust  me.  I'm  playing  for  my  life's  happiness, 
man !  I  can't  afford  to  fail.  I  won't  be  worth  a 
continental  to  you,  myself  or  anybody  else  if  I  don't 
see  this  through.  (Turns  up  R.C.) 

(McGiNNis,  SR.,  enters  R.  arch,  motions  bellboy  to 
go  on  to  room  with  bag.) 

McGiNNis,  SR.     Sam!    My  boy! 

McGiNNis,  JR.  Dad!'  (They  clasp  hands,  SAM 
throziinfj  his  left  arm  around  his  father's  shoulders 
and  girinn  Jiiin  a  hug,  then  turning  to  HART.)  My 
father — Mr.  Hart!  (SAM  and  McGiNNis,  SR., 
move  down  R.  of  table.) 

HART.  (Grasping  the  old  man's  hand)  How  are 
you,  Mr.  McGinnis? 

McGiNNis,  SR.    Glad  to  meet  you,  sir. 

McGiNNis,  JR.  It's  good  to  see  you.  Dad — didn't 
have  an  idea  you  were  within  a  thousand  miles  of 
New  Orleans.  (Puts  him  in  chair.) 

McGiNNis,  SR.  Well,  you  see,  I've  been  worry- 
ing over  you  close  to  a  month.  (To  HART)  His 
letters  ain't  been  happy,  so  I  just  thought  I'd  sorter 
run  down  to  Louisville  and  look  at  the  reason. 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (Bitterly)  And  when  you  got 
there— 

McGiNNis,  SR.  I  went  to  the  address  you  wrote. 
The  maid  told  me  that  you  had  been  working  as  a 
butler (Turns  to  HART.)  My  boy  working  as 


96  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

a  servant!  (To  McGiNNis,  JR.)  Then  I  knew 
things  were  bad. 

HART.  How  did  you  know  he  had  come  to  New 
Orleans  ? 

McGiNNis,  SR.  The  maid  told  me  at  the  Lanham 
house  that  he  was  going  to  work  for  you  and  they 
gave  me  your  address  here  in  New  Orleans,  so  I 
took  the  first  train  and  here  I  am.  (To  SAM)  You 
see  I  wanted  to  hear  about  the  young  woman  from 
you. 

McGiNNis.  JR.    Young  woman? 

McGiNNis,  SR.  Ah,  don't  try  to  fool  your  old 
Dad !  You've  been  out  of  the  army  nearly  two 
months.  What  else  could  have  kept  you  from  your 
old  Dad?  What  else  could  have  spruced  you  up  so? 
Why.  boy,  you're  a  regular  dude.  (Looks  expec- 
tantly at  SAM.  A  lonrj  pause.  SAM  is  tryino  to 
make  up  his  mind  ivhether  or  not  to  tell  his  father. 
HART  notches  him  anxiously,  obviously  eager  for 
SAM  to  tell.  SAM  crosses  up  R.) 

HART.  You're  riVht,  Mr.  McGinnis.  He  ought 
to  tell  you  all  about  it.  I've  tried  to  advise  him,  but 
he  won't  listen  to  me.  From  the  way  he  acts,  I 
know  there's  something  he's  holding  out.  (Turns 
to  SAM.)  I'll  go  out.  Sam.  You  can  talk  to  your 
father  more  freely.  You  aren't  in  shape,  bov,  to 
think  clearly  about  this  matter.  Take  his  advice. 
If  you  want  to  find  me — I'm  going  to  get  a  coca- 
cola (Exits  L.C.) 

McGiNNis,  SR.  (Looks  expectantly  at  SAM — a 
long  pause — SAM  leans  over  table)  Come,  son,  tell 
your  old  man  all  about  it.  If  there's  any  trouble, 
you  can  talk  to  me  straight  from  the  shoulder. 
(Pauses.  SAM  doesn't  speak.)  One  way  and  an- 
other I've  gathered  this  much — you're  in  love  with 
Miss  Lanham  and  she's  disappeared 

McGiNNis,  JR.     There's  nothing  I  can  tell  you, 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  97 

Dad — nothing  I  can  talk  about  until  I've  seen  her 
and  him. 

McGiNNis,  SR.  (Quickly  puts  his  hand  on  his 
son's  arm)  She's  shown  what  she  thinks  of  you, 
boy.  Why  not  take  your  medicine  like  a  man — let 
her  go  ? 

McGiNNis,  JR.     (Bitterly)     I  can't,  Dad. 

McGiNNis,  SR.  But  if  she's  married  to  another 
man 

McGiNNis,  JR.  But  she's  not — she  can't  be — be- 
cause she's  my  wife. 

McGiNNis,  SR.     Your  wife?    You  are  married? 

McGiNNis.  JR.  Yes.  we  were  married  in  France. 
(McGiNNis.  SR.  looks  hurt.)  I  wish  I  had  told  you, 
Dad.  but — at  the  time 

McGiNNis.  SR.  That's  all  right,  son.  (Pause.) 
So  she's  vour  wife.  And  she's  gone  with  another 
man !  (Rises.  With  explosion  of  anger  and  con- 
tempt, striking  table  i^th  open  hand.)  Then  let  her 
go! 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (Pauses.  R.  of  McGiNNis,  SR.) 
Yes.  Dad — but  what  of  me — and  the  other  man  ? 

McGiNNis,  SR.  What  are  you  planning  to  do, 
Son? 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (He  comes  down  R.  and  crosses 
in  front  of  table  to  his  father)  I'm  going  to  take 
her  away  from  him,  and  if  he  so  much  as  bats  an 
eye.  I'll- 

McGixNis,  SR.  Thev  still  hang  for  murder 
sometimes,  and  if  thev  didn't  hang  you.  would  vour 
married  life  be  very  happy  with  a  dead  man  sitting 
at  the  table  between  vou  evprv  meal?  (Pauses  ) 
No.  bov — he  couldn't  have  taken  her  if  she  didn't 
want  to  go. 

MrGiNNis.  JR.  (R.C.  brlow  tnble)  She's  done 
nothing  wrong — she's  foolish,  headstrong — but  she's 
done  nothing  really  wrong.  I'd  stake  my  life  on  it. 


98  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

McGiNNis,  JR.  She's  my  wife,  Dad,  and  I  love 
her. 

(HART  enters  L.C.) 

McGiNNis,  SR.  Then  it's  time  to  quit  talking  like 
a  foolish  boy  and  begin  to  use  your  brains  to  get 
her  back.  Now,  when  I  was  courting  your  mother — 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (Crossing)  Yes,  Dad,  I  remem- 
ber— I  remember. 

McGiNNis,  SR.  Eh — ah — I  mean  I've  got  lots  of 
ideas  about  women.  Old  men  always  have.  (Turns 
to  HART  L.C.J  Haven't  they,  sir? 

HART.  (L.  of  McGiNNis,  SR.,  offended  tone) 
How  should  I  know? 

McGiNNis,  SR.  (Starts  to  exit)  Oh.  you  too! 
(To  SAM)  Come,  Sam.  Come  along  to  my  room 
and  we'll  talk  this  all  over.  (Ad  lib.  and  off.) 

(HART  sits  down  on  chair  L.C.,  reads.  MRS.  SMYTHE 
in  evening  gown  enters  at  R.  and  slowly  crosses 
toward  HART.  He  looks  up  at  her.) 

HART.  (Rising  L.C.,  staring  at  MRS.  SMYTHE) 
Well.  1'il  be  hanged!  You! 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Smiling)  Whom  were  you  ex- 
pecting ? 

HART.     How  did  you  get  here? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.    The  trains  run  quite  regularly. 

HART.  You  didn't  tell  me  you  were  coming  to 
New  Orleans.  (Throws  paper  mi  the  table,  paces  to 
and  fro.  She  -matches  him,  smiling  the  age-old 
smile  of  woman.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Crosses  and  stops  to  R.j  Didn't 
I?  Possibly  I  was  afraid,  if  I  told  you,  you  might 
sail  for  South  America  from  some  other  port. 

HART.  (Stops,  faces  her  irritably)  I  never  saw 
a  woman  like  you ! 


CIVILIAN     CLOTHES  99 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Calmly)  Of  course  you  haven't. 
If  you  had,  I  would  have  been  different.  (Smiles 
on  him — pauses.)  You  see,  my  friend,  you  don't 
realize  my  possibilities (Front  of  table.) 

HART.  Urn !  I'm  beginning  to.  (Pauses,  walks, 

stops  again.)  See  here I  don't  want  to  be 

married. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Front  of  table)  "Nobody  asked 
you,  sir,  she  said" 

HART.  They  haven't?  What  are  you  doing 
here? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Crossing  to  R. — business  with 
fan)  Merely  showing  a  prospective  purchaser  an 
attractive  line  of  goods. 

HART.    I'm  not  in  the  market. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Shakes  her  head  and  turns) 
Oh,  yes,  you  are — men  are  never  out  of  the  market. 

HART.    (Shrewdly)    What  are  you  driving  at  ? 

Mrs.  SMYTHE.  (Laughs — shakes  her  head — to- 
gether, front  of  table)  You're  too  old  and  too  hard 
to  appreciate. 

HART.     (L.C. — irritated)     I'm  not  so  old! 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Calmly — R.C.,  half  seated  on 
table)  You're  not  so  young 

HART.    How  about  you? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  I'm  twenty-eight  and  my  next 
fifteen  years  are  the  years  of  a  woman's  life — you'll 
be  getting  the  best  of  me,  you  see. 

HART.    I'm  just  fifty-two. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  And  you've  lived  too  hard  to  last 
much  beyond  sixty-seven ! 

HART.  (Sharply — turning  to  L.)  Don't  talk  like 
that ! 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Gives  you  the  shivers.  Why  is  it 
the  bigger  the  man  the  more  he  fears  the  finish  ? 


ioo  CIVILIAN    CLOTHES 

HART.  (Returning  to  her  and  striking  table  with 
hand)  That's  the  worst  of  success — you  build  and 
you  build  and 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Then  you  stop  short — and  you've 
no  one  to  leave  it  to. 

HART.    Yes. 

MRS.  SMYTIIE.  (Crosses  to  R.  of  him.  She  looks 
at  him  shrewdly)  You  know,  that  night  at  the  Lan- 
hams*  I  was  acutely  conscious  that  I  had  met  two 
men,  either  of  whom  would  make  marriage  worth 
while 

HART.     (L.C.    His  vanity  hurt)     Two? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (R.cJ  Yes.  You  and  Sam  Mc- 
Ginnis. 

HART.     (Startled)     You'd  marry  McGinnis? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Any  woman  would  marry  Mc- 
Ginnis. 

HART.    One  wouldn't. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Nonsense!  That  was  because 
she's  young.  I  made  her  jealous — then  McGinnis 
rode  her  with  spurs,  and,  like  any  thoroughbred  filly, 
she  bolted — and  I'm  honestly  sorry,  because  I  know 
she  must  be  eating  her  heart  out  now. 

HART.  (Claps  fist  into  other  palm)  Good !  That 

speech  is  what  I've  been  waiting  for So  you 

have  a  heart,  after  all ! 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Of  course !  Every  woman  has — 
only  men  doubt  that. 

HART.  You  get  that  girl  back  for  McGinnis  and 
it's  a  trade. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Pardon  my  frankness,  but  that's 
the  darndest  proposal  I  ever  had!  (Fans  herself  as 
she  turns  to  R.) 

HART.  (Gruffly)  It's  the  only  one  you'll  get 
from  me. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.    Accepted! 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  101 

HART.  (Looks  at  her  curiously — they  are  dost 
together)  I  wonder  if  we'll  get  on? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (She  looks  at  him — matter-of- 
fact)  Why  not?  You've  known  many  women  and 
I've  been  married.  I  doubt  if  either  of  us  can  show 
any  mood  the  other  hasn't  met. 

HART.  (Looks  at  her,  then  turns  away)  I  wish 
you  wouldn't  talk  that  way.  It  doesn't  sound  right 
to  me. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Possibly  not — but  don't  you  think 
it'll  be  awfully  nice?  (Crosses  to  L.C.  She  looks  at 
him  with  tantalising  invitation.  He  looks  at  her, 
suddenly  takes  her  in  his  anus  and  kisses  her — at  last 
releases  her.  She  looks  at  him  breathlessly.)  Did 
you  say  you  were  fifty- two?  Fifty-two?  (L.  in 
front  of  table,  facing  HART,  who  is  R.  of  her.  Shakes 
her  head.)  Twenty-five! 

(McGiNNis  enters  L.C.     He  is  in  evening  clothes  of 
faultless  cut — looks  particularly  distinguished.) 

HART.  (Crosses  to  McGiNNis)  Well,  Sam,  she 
landed  me. 

McGiNNis.  (K.  of  HART,  a  little  above  him — 
shakes  hands  with  him)  Congratulations !  (To 
MRS.  SMYTHE)  You  know,  he  told  me  tonight  you 
were  the  onlv  woman  he'd  ever  seen  worth  marry- 
ing and  he  thoueht  if  he  could  keep  you  guessing 
Ion**  enough  he  might  land  you ! 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (To  HART)  Oh,  you  did?  So 
that's  the  wav  von  handle  thin^ ! 

HART.  (Crosses  to  MRS.  SMYTHE.  R.r.)  When 
you  want  a  thing,  never  let  the  other  fellow  know 
yon'rA  anvinus  to  get  it.  (McGiNNis  gives  a  per- 
cefitib'?  start.) 

MrGiNNTS.  Yon  know,  it's  fnnnv — that's  vVmt 
Dad  said.  (Suddenh  turns  to  MRS.  SMYTHE.)  Will 
you  help  me,  Margie? 


103  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  I  offered  to  three  days  ago. 
What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ? 

McGiNNis.  (Crossing  to  K.)  I  don't  know — 
just  stand  by  and  follow  my  lead. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.    What  are  you  going  to  do? 

McGiNNis.  (At  R.  entrance)  Darned  if  I 
know! 

HART  and  MRS.  SMYTHE.     (In  surprise)     Eh? 

McGiNNis.  I  mean  I'm  going  to  wait  till  I  see 
her  and  then 

HART  and  MRS.  SMYTHE.     (Eagerly)     Then 

McGiNNis.  Then  I'm  going  to  leave  it  up  to 
her  and  I'm  going  to  do  exactly  what  she  doesn't 
expect. 

(BELLBOY  enters  R.) 

BELLBOY.  That  train  from  Louisville  has  arrived. 
(Exits.) 

McGiNNis.  (Up  L.C.,  looking  off  R.  Motions 
them  off)  Just  stick  around  and  follow  my  lead. 

HART.     (Starting  to  leave)     I'll  be  in 

McGiNNis.    I  know — the  office. 

(HART  exits  -with  MRS.  SMYTHE  L.  McGiNNis 
peeps  out  from  portiere  at  arch  L.C.  ;  as  FLO  and 
BILLY  enter  he  quickly  exits.  FLO  and  BILLY 
enter  R.U.  and  cross  down.  FLO  sinks  in  chair 
down  R.  They  are  followed  by  boy.) 

BILLY.  Whew!  Twenty  hours  late  in  a  twenty- 
four-hour  trip.  Still,  that's  not  bad  under  govern- 
ment ownership.  (Bends  to  kiss  her.) 

FLO.    Don't ! 

BILLY.    Nobody's  looking. 

FLO.    Please  don't. 


CIVILIAN    CLOTHES  103 

BILLY.    Why? 

FLO.    I  don't  want  you  to. 

BILLY.  Well,  you're  the  funniest  girl  I  ever 
eloped  with. 

FLO.  I  didn't  elope  with  you.  I  asked  you  to 
take  me  to  the  train.  And  you  stayed  aboard  and 
followed  me  here.  And  you  promised  you'd  get  off 
at  Memphis. 

(McGiNNis  enters  R.U.  and  starts  to  take  handker- 
chief from  his  hip  pocket.  FLO  sees  him,  jumps 
to  her  feet  and  screams.) 

McGiNNis.    Well 

FLO.  Sam!  Don't!  Don't!  He  didn't  know. 
It  was  my  fault. 

McGiNNis.  (Looks  at  them,  astonished)  What's 
the  matter? 

BILLY.    Nothing — absolutely  nothing. 

McGiNNis.  I've  just  been  waiting  for  an  oppor- 
tunity to  congratulate  you.  (Takes  a  hand  of  each.) 
I  was  just  reading  about  your  marriage. 

FLO.    (In  amazement)    About  our — marriage  ? 

McGiNNis.     (Innocently)     Aren't  you  married? 

(FLO  looks  at  BILLY.     BILLY  looks  at  FLO.J 

FLO  and  BILLY.    Why — why 

BILLY.    We— we 

McGiNNis.  How  do  you  like  it?  (Gulps  from 
both  of  them.) 

FLO.    How  do  you  like  it  ? 

McGiNNis.  Why  ask  me?  I'm  not  married  to 
him. 

FLO.  (Trying  to  change  the  subject)  But  what 
are  you  doing  here  ? 


104  CIVILIAN    CLOTHES 

McGiNNis.  Well,  you  see,  when — you  ran  away, 
I  got  lonesome,  so  I 

FLO.  You  don't  mean  you (McGiNNis 

bows.  With  involuntary  fear  in  her  voice)  Who — 
who  is  she? 

McGiNNis.  Did  the  same  thing,  yes.  Can't  you 
guess? 

FLO.    You — you  don't  mean 

McGiNNis.  Y — yes.  (MRS.  SMYTHE  and  HART 
are  seen  passing  at  back.  They  stop,  surprised. 
McGiNNis  goes  up,  takes  MRS.  SMYTHE  by  the  arm 
and  brings  her  down.  HART  looks  after  them,  as- 
tonished.) Dearest,  I  was  just  telling  them  about 
us.  (MRS.  SMYTHE  starts  perceptibly.  McGiN- 
NIS  gives  her  a  little  sharp  nudge  to  follow  his  lead. 
HART  stares,  annoyed  and  indignant.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Getting  it)  Oh,  yes — you  tell 
her  all  about  us,  Sam.  (HART  gulps,  MRS.  SMYTHE 
beams  up  into  McGiNNis's  face  as  he  leads  her  down 

McGiNNis.  Isn't  this  a  jolly  surprise?  (FLO 
crosses  over  front  of  table  to  L..,  R.  of  BILLY.  Mc- 
GINNIS  brings  MRS.  SMYTHE  down  R.  of  table  and, 
with  his  arm  around  her,  stands  R.  of  her  in  lover- 
like  attitude.  HART  is  hovering  near  entrance,  R., 
slightly  uneasy.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.    Congratulations. 

FLO.  (As  if  in  a  daze)  Thank  you,  Mrs. — 
Mrs. 

BILLY.    Congratulations,  Mrs.  McGinnis. 

FLO.  (To  McGiNNisj  You  didn't  waste  much 
time,  did  you? 

McGiNNis.  (Crosses  to  FLO)  We're  merely  fol- 
lowing your  example. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Now  wise)  Oh,  there's  nothing 
slow  about  Sam.  (Hangs  on  SAM'S  arm,  looking  up 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  105 

Into  his  eyes.  Suddenly)  I  have  an  idea.  We 
eloped  the  same  time,  we  have  met  here — we'll  take 
our  honeymoon  together. 

FLO.  Y — yes — y — yes — that  will  be  jolly,  won't 
it.  Captain  McGinnis? 

McGiNNis.     Suits  me. 

BILLY.    But — we  had  our  plans  already  made. 

McGiNNis.  Oh,  we  don't  care  where  we  are,  do 
we,  Margie  dear  ? — as  long  as  we  are  together.  (He 
kisses  MRS.  SMYTHE.  Business  for  HART.) 

BILLY.    You've  got  nothing  on  us. 

FLO.  Please — you  know  I  hate  vulgar  display  of 
affection. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  I  think  all  women  show  what  they 
ferl,  don't  you?  (Business  for  HART.) 

FLO.  Y^c — ves — and  Billy  and  I  are  very  happy, 
aren't  we,  Bi1ly? 

BIT  rv.     Of  course,  we  are. 

McGiNNis.  It's  wonderful  to  see  four  people  so 
ha^nv (Kisses  MRS.  SMYTHE.) 

HART.  (Coivcs  doum,  tryino  to  force  a  laugh) 
Ye — ves,  but  where  do  I  come  in? 

McGiNNis.  You  don't — you  go  out.  Oh,  fly 
awav,  little  birdie,  fly  away. 

HART.  Well.  I'll  exit.  Now  I  know  I'm  going 
to  the  bar!  (Exits  R.I.) 

MRS.  SMYTITE.    Oh,  where  were  you  married? 

FLO.     Didn't  the  papers  say? 

McGiNNis.  Why,  surely,  the  papers Where 

are  the  papers,  Margie? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  I'll  get  them.  (To  BILLY) 
Come  with  me.  (To  FLO)  If  you  can  spare  him, 
dear? 

FLO.  Yes,  I  can  spare  him.  (Exit  BILLY  and 
MRS.  SMYTHE.  L.C.)  You're  a  good  forgetter, 
aren't  you? 

McGiNNis.    (R.cJ    We  both  are. 


106  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

FLO.  Six  days  ago  mad  about  one  girl — one  girl 
to  whom  you  owed  a  duty. 

McGiNNis.  I  thought  you  decided  to  leave  duty 
in  France. 

FLO.     Just  six  days  ago 

McGiNNis.    But  then  I  hadn't  met  Margie. 

FLO.  (Bitter  imitation)  No,  you  hadn't  met  Mar- 
gie. 

McGiNNis.  (Crosses  to  L.  end  of  table — looking 
after  MRS.  SMYTHE)  Oh,  I  must  tell  you  about 
Margie.  You  know,  she's  the  most  wonderful  wo- 
man in  the  world — so  beautiful — such  taste — such 
knowledge,  such  sweet  shyness. 

FLO.  (R.,  below  table)  Yes,  she's  famous  for  her 
sweet  shyness. 

McGiNNis.  I  can  never  thank  you  enough  for 
having  made  it  possible  for  me  to  meet  her — I  shall 
always  remember  you  for  that. 

FLO.    Just  for  that?    Thank  you. 

McGiNNis.  Yes.  Think,  but  for  that  I'd  be 
probably  now  a  raving  lunatic,  running  around  with 
a  gun,  trying  to  kill  Billy  or  you  or  myself — while, 
instead,  I  want  to  shake  him  by  the  hand.  (Sin- 
cerely) And  for  you  I  have  the  kindliest  feeling. 

FLO.  Thank  you — that's  very  nice.  You  know,  if 
there's  anything  a  woman  does  appreciate  it's  for  a 

man  to  have  the  kindliest  feeling  for  her (She 

is  almost  ready  to  cry  for  humiliation  and  rage. 
McGiNNis  sits  L.  of  table.) 

McGiNNis.  What  do  you  suppose  was  the  first 
thing  Margie  did  when  we  found  we  loved  each 
other  ? 

FLO.  (Seated  R.  of  table)  I  really  don't  know, 
under  those  circumstances,  what  she  usually  does. 

McGiNNis.  (Seated  R.  of  table)  She  asked  me 
all  about  my  people. 

FLO.  And  I  suppose  you  told  her  all  about  your 
father  in  Racine? 


CIVILIAN     CLOTHES  107 

McGiNNis.  Yes — my  father,  the  cobbler,  and  she 
insisted  that  I  wire  him  at  once  to  come  and  be  with 
us  in  our  happiness. 

FLO.    He's  coming ? 

McGiNNis.  This  evening.  Expecting  him  any 
moment. 

FLO.    At  this  hotel  ? 

McGiNNis.  (An  idea  obviously  strikes  FLO — she 
starts  to  speak — suppresses  the  inclination)  Dear 
old  Dad — he'll  be  so  proud  of  her! 

(MARGIE'S  voice  heard  off.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Off — sweetly,  lovingly)  Sam — 
Sam,  dear- 


McGiNNis.    There "His  Master's  Voice"- 


(Calls)  Coming,  dearest,  coming!  (Seises  FLO  by 
hand,  gives  it  energetic  shake.)  Good-bye — good 

luck (In  hurrying  to  door  to  hall,  meets  BILLY 

coming  in — seises  BILLY'S  hand,  wrings  it  fervidly, 
wheeling  him  around.)  Congratulations — congratu- 
lations   Good-bye!  (Calls)  Coming,  Margie 

dear !    (Exits  rapidly.) 

(FLO  stares  after  him,  dumb  and  heartsick;  sits  in 
chair  L.) 

BILLY.  (Bland — self -satisfied)  I  never  saw  such 
a  woman.  Thought  I'd  never  get  away.  How  are 
you  now?  (Comes  over,  starts  to  take  her  hand. 
She  jerks  it  away  from  him.) 

FLO.  Don't  touch  me!  Don't  speak  to  me! 
(Buries  face  in  her  hands.)  How  dared  you  get  on 
that  train  again  at  Memphis?  If  you  want  the  truth, 

I  only  ran  away  to  annoy Oh,  I'm  miserable — 

utterly  miserable ! 

(McGiNNis,  SR.,  appears  at  the  door  L.U.E.  and  real- 
izes he  is  intruding  on  private  party.    Tries  to 


io8  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

back  out  and,  being  awkward  in  social  usages, 
does  not  know  how  to  do  it  gracefully.) 

McGiNNis,  SR.  Excuse  me — excuse  me!  I — I 
didn't  mean  to  butt  in — I  was  just  looking  for — 
(With  pride) — for  Captain  Sam  McGinnis! 

BILLY.     (Shortly)     He's  not  here. 

McGiNNis,  SR.    I  see  he  ain't — excuse  me 

(FLO  stands  for  an  instant  petrified.  Staring  at  Mc- 
GINNIS,  then  obviously  an  inspiration  strikes 
her.) 

FLO.    You  are  Captain  McGinnis's  father? 

McGiNNis,  SR.  (Delighted,  moving  toward  her 
a  step)  Yes,  Miss — yes — some  folks  do  say  we  look 
alike. 

FLO.  I'm  so  glad  to  meet  you.  (Shakes  hands 
with  him  eagerly.)  We  are  friends  of  Captain  Mc- 
Ginnis. Come  right  in.  ( BILLY  stands  aghast  and 
enrnnrd. ) 

McGiNNis,  SR.  Well,  that's  right  friendly  of 
yon. 

FLO.     This  is  Mr.  Arkwright. 

McGiNNis.  SR.    Pleased  to  meet  you. 

BILLY.  I  think.  Florence,  if  Mr.  McGinnis  will 

excuse  us (He  is  obviously  planning  to  get  rid 

of  McGiNNis.) 

FLO.  (Giving  the  other  twist  to  it)  I  want  to 
talk  to  Mr.  McGinnis  alone. 

BILLY.     Certainly.     (Exits.) 

McGiNNis,  SR.  Sure (As  BILLY  exits.) 

Good-night.  (To  FLO.  Crosses  over  to  *..)  I  didn't 
quite  get  your  name,  Miss 

FLO.  (Following  him)  My  name (With 

sudden  smile  of  one  plunging  into  deep  water) — 
I'm  Mrs.  Sam  McGinnis 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  109 

(McGiNNis  backs  to  *.    At  lower  side  of  table.) 

McGiNNis,  SR.  (R.  of  table — stares  at  her  a  mo- 
ment— blinks  in  surprise)  You  are  Sam's  wife? 

FLO.  (Glad  she  has  gotten  over  with  it  and  a  bit 
breathless  after  the  plunge)  Yes 

McGiNNis,  SR.  (Instantly  beams — sits  in  chair 
R  .)  Honest  ? 

FLO.  Honest.  (They  look  at  each  other,  smiling.) 
Won't  you  sit  down  ?  (She  takes  him  to  chair  R.  He 
sits.  Suddenly  on  impulse  she  bends  forward  and 
kisses  him.  He  is  obviously  greatly  embarrassed.) 

McGiNNis,  SR.  Shucks!  You — kinder — kinder — 
(Moves  his  shoulders  in  embarrassed  fashion — 
beams)  I'm  awful  elad  Sam's  married— -er — a 

FLO.     (L.  of  McGiNNTs)     Florence. 

McGiNNis,  SR.  (Half  shyly)  Florence — that's 
a  pretty  name.  My  wife's  name  was  Katherine. 

FLO.  "Katherine"  is  a  beautiful  name.  (Pauses 
— determined  to  show  she  is  a  loyal  daughter) 
Don't  you  want  to  chew? 

McGiNNis,  SR.    Chew  what? 

FLO.    Tobacco. 

McGiNNis,  SR.  I  don't  chew.  (Pause.)  But  if 
you  want  to,  go  right  ahead. 

FLO.     Why,  Sam  told  me 

McGiNNis,  SR.  Don't  you  know  that  boy  well 
enough  to  know  he's  a  born  joker?  Half  the  time 
he's  making  fun  of  folks — he  can't  help  it. 

FLO.  Sam  has  a  wonderful  sense  of  humor,  hasn't 
he? 

McGiNNis,  SR.  That's  the  way  I  like  to  hear  a 
wife  talk — nothin'  new-fangled — just  plain  man  and 
woman — them  as  God  has  joined  together 

FLO.     (Softly)    Yes,  yes 

McGiNNis,  SR.  I  have  been  worried  about  Sam 
for  some  time — his  letters  ain't  been  happy — 


no  CIVILIAN    CLOTHES 

(Shrewdly)  Guess  that  was  while  you  was  courtin' 
and  maybe  you  was  treatin'  him  mean  ? 

FLO.    Yes. 

McGiNNis,  SR.  (Confidentially)  That's  good 
for  him — makes  him  appreciate  you.  (Pause.) 

FLO.  (Half  whispers)  You  know,  you  aren't 
what  I  expected.  Why,  you — you  are  just  an  old 
dear! 

McGiNNis,  SR.  (Takes  her  hand  and  pats  it) 
I'm  mighty  glad  Sam's  married  a  girl  that's  not 
ashamed  of  his  plain  old  father. 

FLO.  Ashamed  of  you !  Whatever  could  make 
you  think  Sam's  wife  would  be  ashamed  of  you? 

McGiNNis,  SR.  I've  been  mighty  worried  about 
the  girl  Sam  would  marry.  You  know,  Sam's  what 
you  call  a  "snob." 

FLO.    (Amazed)    Sam  a  snob? 

McGiNNis,  SR.  Yes,  all  folks  that  gets  ahead  in 
this  world  are  snobs — that's  what  puts  them  ahead — 
they're  snobs  about  position,  snobs  about  money, 
snobs  about  society,  snobs  about  what  they  can  do, 
ability,  in  fact  snobs  about  everything. 

FLO.    But  at  least  you  aren't  a  snob 

McGiNNis,  SR.  But  I  am — I'm  the  durndest  ever 
about  making  shoes. 

FLO.    And  Sam? 

McGiNNis,  SR.  (Chuckles)  Sam's  a  snob  about 
his  ability — and  that's  the  best  kind  of  a  snob  be- 
cause those  ability  snobs  have  to  live  up  to  what 
they  think  they  are,  and  the  better  they  get  the  better 
they  think  they  are,  so  they  just  keep  on  goin'  and 
goin'  till  the  rest  of  us  ain't  got  a  chance — Rocke- 
feller and  Schwab  and  Ford — they're  ability  snobs 
— and  then  Sam's  a  terrible  snob  about  coming  from 
the  common  people.  You  know,  that  boy  wouldn't 
take  a  million  dollars  for  being  able  to  say,  "My 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  in 

father's  a  shoemaker."  (Grins.)  When  he's  going- 
strong,  he  calls  it  "cobbler."  Of  course,  I  was  a 
cobbler,  but  it's  a  factory  now.  I'm  thinkin'  Sam 
never  mentioned  that? 

FLO.  (A  light  breaking)  No— I've  never  hap- 
pened to 

McOiNNis.  SR.  (Smiles  with  appreciation  of 
SAM'S  weakness — with  tenderness)  Maybe,  daugh- 
ter, you're  wondering  and  thinking  I  oughtn't  to  be 
saying  all  this,  but  I  have  my  reasons.  (Taking  her 
hand.)  My  boy  Sam  is  the  world  to  me — he's  all  I 
have — all  I  live  for.  all  I  have  lived  for  since  his 
mother  left  him  to  me — and  I  wouldn't  tell  him  what 
I've  told  you  for  anything — but  you  are  his  wife, 
you  love  him — and  remember,  that  if  a  man  and 
woman  are  to  be  happy  together,  they  don't  have  to 
worrv  about  each  other's  strength,  but  they  must  un- 
derstand and  handle  each  other's  weaknesses.  That's 
whv  I've  tinned  vou  off  on  Sam. 

FLO.  Thanks — I  understand (Pauses.) 

Now.  what  am  I  a  snob  about? 

M  SR.  Just  now  you  seem  to  be  a  snob 

ahn"*  m-'Hnor  your  old  daddy-in-law  love  you  and 
you're  doing  it.  (Pauses.  He  winks.)  The  rest 
I'll  tell  to  Sam. 

FLO.  (With  eagerness)  Whatever  you  tell  him, 
•  n  him  r  -i-rht— tell  him  that 

(MRS.  SMYTHE  appears  with  McGiNNis  up  R.    He 
quickly  frits,  cutting  off  FLO  before  she 
finish.) 

Mrs.  SMYTHE.  CL.C.  Entering  and  rownn  down 
— cheerfully)  Just  looking  for  r  |  Vlinnis. 

Have  yon  ^e^n  him,  dear? 

^r.o      Vo !     fCrotx  R. ) 

SR     When  you  do  see  Captain  Me- 


na  CIVILIAN    CLOTHES 

Ginnis,  ma'am,  would  you  tell  him  to  come  here — 
he's  expecting  me 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  I  have  a  suspicion  that  he  is  in 
the  office. 

McGiNNis,  SR.  Thank  you,  ma'am.  If  he's  there, 
it  will  save  us  both  a  walk.  (Pauses  at  the  door. 
Exits  -R.) 

(MRS.  SMYTHE  has  entered,  bright  and  smiling. 
FLO  is  smiling,  too,  facing  her,  but  hers  is  the 
smile  of  battle.  A  pause  that  becomes  awk- 
ward.) 

FLO.  (With  determination)  Margie — I  want  to 
talk  to  you  about  Sam 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Sits  L.  of  table  c. — beams) 
That's  awfully  nice  of  you,  dear — you  know  there's 
no  subject  in  the  world  I'm  so  full  of.  Isn't  he  won- 
derful ?  (Does  not  pause  for  reply.)  Just  the  min- 
ute I  saw  him  I  said  to  myself :  "There's  the  man  to 
'make  any  woman  happy." 

FLO.     (Gulping)     Yes (Sits  R.  of  table  c.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  You  know,  right  after  dinner 
that  night  Mr.  Hart  offered  him  twenty  thousand  a 
year  to  work  for  him,  and  Sam.  for  some  foolish 
reason,  refused 

FLO.  (Realising  why  SAM  refused  and  the  enor- 
mity of  her  own  loss)  Captain — Sam  refused  that 
night — what — when  ?  What  time  that  night  ? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.    Immediately  after  dinner. 

FLO.    Oh,  what  a  fool — I 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Seated  L.  of  table)  Oh.  not 
such  a  fool.  He's  sailing  tomorrow  for  South 
America  to  make  a  preliminary  investigation  of  the 
Hart  properties  at  $25.000  a  year. 

FLO.  (Seated  R.  of  table)  Sailing  tomorrow  I 
(MRS.  SMYTHE  nods.  With  determination,  ruing) 
I'm  going  with  him ! 


X 

6 

d 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  113 

MRS.  SMYTHE,  (Ris*t)  YouT  Oh,  no — I'm  go- 
ing with  him ! 

FLO.  (Rise*)  Margie,  Sara  McGinnis  belongs  to 
me! 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Laughs)  My  dear,  you  can't 
have  them  all,  you  know 

FLO.  (Facing  MRS.  SMYTHE — FLO  L.  MRS. 
SMYTHE  R.  in  front  of  table)  Perhaps  you  won't 
feel  that  way  when  I  tell  you  I'm  his  wife.  (She 
expects  an  outburst  from  MRS.  SMYTHE,  but  she  is 
calm.  She  is  really  startled,  but  hides  it.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.    Really — you  married  him? 

FLO.     Yes,  in  France. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  And  you  let  him  pet  away  from 
you?  (With  pitying  contempt)  You  poor  little 
fool !  (Crosses,  fanning  herself,  to  L.) 

FLO.  (Standing  L.C.;)  I  may  have  been  a  fool,  but 
I'm  still  his  wife. 

MKS.  SMYTIJE.  (n.c.)  Fortunately  the  divorce 
will  be  easy  to  get. 

FLO.    You  mean  he'd  divorce  me  ? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Well,  my  dear,  when  a  married 
woman  goes  away  with  another  man 

FLO.  Marge,  I've  been  a  fool — I  admit  it — a  poor 
blind  fool — but  I've  waked  up.  I  love  him — I  don't 
feel  that  I  can  go  on  without  him.  Won't  you 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Smiling)  Do  you  think  he'd 
take  you  back  ? 

FLO.  (Dumb  with  horror)  Take  me?  You  mean 
he  wouldn't  take  me? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Standing  L.  of  FLO.  front  of 
table)  Why,  child,  you  had  him — you  had  his  love 
and  your  happiness  right  in  your  hands — and  what 
did  you  do?  Just  because  you  didn't  like  the  cut  of 
his  clothes,  or  the  way  the  barber  had  brushed  Ms 
hair,  or  some  other  fool  thing  that  had  nothing  in 
the  world  to  do  with  the  man  himself,  you  decided 


ii4  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

to  break  your  word,  kick  over  a  contract,  and  ruin  a 
man's  life 

FLO.     I  didn't — I  only  wanted  to  •  •• 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  To  humiliate  him  and  furnish 
yourself  an  excuse  for  kicking  out.  That's  the  trou- 
ble with  about  half  of  you  wives.  You  think  that 
marriage  is  a  one-sided  arrangement  for  your  pro- 
tection, care  and  amusement,  instead  of  being  a  job 
like  any  other  job  that  a  woman  and  man  both  have 
to  work  at  to  make  good. 

FLO.     But 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  You  had  your  chance — you  failed 
and  now  the  job  is  mine. 

FLO.  (Crosses  to  R.cJ  You  refuse  to  give  him 
up? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.     Yes! 

FLO.    Then  I'll  take  him  away  from  you 

MRS.  SMYTHE.     (Laughs)     You! 

FLO.  Yes — because  I'm  his  wife  and  you  can't 
take  a  man  away  from  his  wife  if  she  wants  him 

and  is  willing  to  fight  for  him,  and  I'll  fight 

(Goes  up  L.  of  table  and  returns.) 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Crosses  R.C.)  But  I  did  take 
him 

FLO.  You Why,  you  took  nothing!  I  was 

just  a  little  fool  and  let  him  go,  but  now  I  know  I 
love  him.  He  did  love  me,  and  I'm  going  to  make 
him  love  me  all  over  again — you'll  see,  you'll  see! 
(Exits  L.u.E.J 

(McGiNNis,  JR.,  enters  K.) 

McGiNNis,  JR.    Well?    (Crosses  to  R.C.J 

MRS.   SMYTHE.     (L.  of  table,  a  little  above  it) 

She's  going  to  do  this  to  you (Makes  gesture 

•with  her  finger — "Come  to  me.") 

McGiNNis,  JR.     (R.  of  table)    Ah !     (His  whole 

being  lights  up  with  joy  and  love.) 


CIVILIAN    CLOTHES  115 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Dryly)  And  if  you  do  just 
that,  as  you're  doing  now,  you'll  have  her — for  a 
while. 

McGiNNis,  JR.  I  don't  want  her  for  a  while — I 
want  her  for  always. 

MRS.  SMYTHE'  Then  do  this (Indicates 

vigorously  gesture  of  repulsion — pushing  some  one 
away.) 

McGiNNis,  JR.  And  drive  her  away  from  me 
forever  ? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Forever?  Oh,  no,  she's  a  wo- 
man. 

McGiNNis,  JR.    But 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Front  of  table,  L.  end  of  it — 
quotes)  "A  woman,  a  hound  and  a  walnut  tree — 
the  more  you  beat  'em  the  better  they  be."  (He 
hesitates.) 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (Front  of  table,  R.  end  of  it — 
irritably)  Don't  believe  in  old  sayings. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  All  right!  Yet  in  business — do 
you  cheapen  the  article  when  the  customer  is  inter- 
ested ? 

McGiNNis,  JR.  I  don't  want  to  cheapen — 
but 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (Disgusted)  Why  is  it,  about 
everything  but  a  woman,  a  man  can  use  common 
sense  ?  Now  listen :  She  ran  away  to  pique  you  and 
that  foolish  Billy  ran  after  her.  She's  in  the  middle 
of  an  awkward  situation,  and  neither  he  nor  she  has 
the  poise  or  humor  to  handle  it — and  on  top  of  that, 
you  come  along,  and  I've  shown  her  your  value  and 
she  sees  what  she's  lost,  and  she's  determined  to  beat 
me  and  get  you  back  at  the  crook  of  her  finger.  She's 
sure  of  it  because  she  told  me  so.  (Crosses  to  L.) 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (For  the  first  time  warming  up 
and  the  light  of  battle  coming  into  his  eyes)  She 
told  you  that?  I'll  come  at  the  first  crook  of  her 
finger,  eh?  (Moves  to  R.j 


n6  CIVILIAN    CLOTHES 

MRS.  SMVTHE.  (Pressing  hrr  advantage)  Yes — 
will  you  ? 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (R.C.,  facing  her)  I'll  see  her 
in 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  (L.C.,  facing  him)  Then  tell  her 
just  that.  (Pressing  her  advantage)  You've  gambled 
for  your  life — can't  you  gamble  for  your  happiness? 
She'll  be  a  wonderful  wife  if  you  get  her  on  your 
terms — but  you're  a  fool  if  you  take  her  on  her  own, 
because  she'll  find  out  she  was  tricked  and  never 
forgive  it. 

McGiNNis,  JR.  And  I'd  always  dreamed  mar- 
riage was  a  partnership. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  Yes,  it  is — with  a  good  senior 
partner. 

McGiNNis,  JR.    I'll 

(FLO  enters  L.uJ 

FLO.  Sorry  to  interrupt,  but  I  dropped  my  hand- 
kerchief. 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  I  was  just  going (Crosses 

belotv  table  to  Rj 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (L.  of  MRS.  SMYTHE — politely) 
Shall  I? 

MRS.  SMYTHE.  No,  indeed,  dear  boy — I've  many 
things  to  attend  to.  (Pause  at  door  R.I — to  FLO) 
I  hope,  dear,  you'll  find — your  handkerchief.  (She 
exits  K.) 

FLO.  (L.C.  Facing  McGiNNis  R.J  Sam,  why 
did  you  let  me  do  it  ? 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (R.  of  her,  below  table)  Do 
what? 

FLO.    (Sits  in  chair  L.)    Run  away? 

McGiNNis.  (Moinng  a  s'efi  toward  her)  You 
came  of  vour  own  free  will,  didn't  you? 

FLO.  But  you  were  my  husband — it  was  your  duty 
to  stop  me. 


CIVILIAN    CLOTHES  117 

McGiNNis,  JR.  How  could  I  itop  you  when  I 
didn't  know  anything  about  it  ? 

FLO.  I  wanted  to  show  you  that  I  had  the  cour- 
age to  do  as  I  liked — to  follow  my  impulses. 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (Sits  R.  of  her)  Well,  you  did  it 
— aren't  you  happy? 

FLO.  Sam,  I've  made  a  terrible  mistake — well — I 
want  you  to  come  back  to  me 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (Rises)  So  you  want  to  choose 
the  easy  way  out — quit — and  make  me  a  quitter,  too. 

FLO.    Make  you  a  quitter  ? 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (Looks  R.)  Yes,  Margie — where 
would  she  be  ? 

FLO.  She  shan't  have  you !  I'm  your  wife  and  I 
won't  give  you  up ! 

McGiNNis,  JR.  How  can  you  give  up  what  you 
haven't  got  ? 

FLO.  Don't,  Sam — don't  say  that !  It's  not  Mar- 
gie— you  don't  understand — I 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (R.  of  her)  But  I  do  understand. 
I  understand  better  than  you  think.  You're  in  a  bad 
fix,  and  you  want  me  to  pull  you  out.  You  played 
me  for  a  fool  once,  but  don't  think  you  can  play  me 
for  a  fool  all  the  time.  Don't  I  know  what's  in  the 
back  of  your  mind?  You'll  admit  I'm  your  husband. 

FLO.    Always ! 

McGiNNis,  JR.  Nonsense — you've  not  changed — 
I've  not  changed — I'm  the  same  roughneck  you  knew 
in  France,  the  same  servant  who  took  orders  in  your 
house.  If  I  couldn't  hold  you  then,  I  can't  hold  you 
now — and  I  don't  propose  to  be  picked  up  and 
thrown  down  at  any  woman's  whim. 

FLO.  I'll  come  back  as  your  wife — Sam — don't 
you  understand  ?  As  your  wife. 

McGiNNis,  JR.  (With  bitter  sarcasm)  Yes,  as 
my  wife — to  save  your  name — then  divorce  me  le- 
gally. No,  I'm  through — as  far  as  I'm  concerned, 
you  can  go  to  the  devil 


ii8  CIVILIAN     CLOTHES 

FLO.  (As  he  stalks  out  n.)  All  right,  then,  I 
will!  (He  exits.  To  herself)  But  you'll  be  the 
devil  I'll  go  to ! 

BOY.  (Enters  with  suitcase)  I  done  got  yer  key, 
lady.  Kin  I  show  yer  to  yer  room  ? 

FLO.    Take  my  bag  to  Captain  McGinnis'  room — 

BOY.    Yes,  ma'am. 

FLO.  Have  the  maid  put  out  my  things.  I'll  be 
up  shortly. 

BOY.     Yes,  ma'am.     (Exits.) 

(FLO  sits,  thinking  over  her  next  step.) 

McGiNNis.  (Enters  and  catches  sight  of  FLO) 
I  told  you  to  go  to  the  devil. 

FLO.  (Rising)  Well,  here  I  am.  And  you  can't 
put  me  out.  Oh!  Sam — won't  you  forgive  me?  I 
love  you,  Sam !  I  love  you !  I've  lost  all  my  snob- 
bishness— I'm  cured — Sam — I'm  cured. 

McGiNNis.     Who  cured  you? 

FLO.  Can't  you  guess?  The  best  shoemaker  in 
Racine.  (They  embrace.) 

McGiNNis.    God  bless  you. 

CURTAIN 


LIGHT  PLOT 
ACT  I 

Two    2-light    brackets.      Not    practical.      Colonial 

prism. 

One  glow  in  footlights  for  fireplace. 
Two  1000  watt  spots,  left,  first  entrance,  focussed 

on  settee. 
One  1000  watt  spot,  through  window,  left,  focussed 

on  settee. 

Two  1000  watt  bunches  outside  of  window,  left. 
Two  looo  watt  bunches  on  backing  outside  of  doors, 

center. 

Foots — amber  and  white. 

ACT  II 

Three  2-light  Colonial  prism,  brackets,  same  as  first 
act,  practical. 

Two  looo  watt  spots,  left,  first  entrance,  flood  stage. 

One  1000  watt  spot,  right  first  entrance,  flood  stage. 

One  3O-amp.  rotary  switch  to  control  circuit  of  am- 
ber in  foots  and  bracket. 

One  6-light  strip,  amber,  in  doorway,  left. 

One  fire-log  and  glow  for  fireplace. 

One  6-light  strip,  amber,  in  doorway,  right. 

One  electrical  center-piece  for  dining  table,  practi- 
cal. 

Six  1000  watt  bunches,  blue,  in  back  of  transparent 
conservatory. 

Foots — One  circuit,  amber,  connected  on  switch  on 
stage. 

119 


120  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

ACT  III.     Hotel  Parlor. 

Five  2-light  brackets,  practical. 
One  2-light  table  lamp  on  table,  right. 
One  lo-light  bunch  on  back  outside  arch,  right,  am- 
ber. 

One  1000  watt  bunch,  left  on  corridor  drop,  amber. 
Foots — amber  and  white. 
First  border — amber. 

PROPERTY  PLOT 
ACT  I 

The  Lanham  Library  in  Louisville,  Kentucky. 
Time:  The  Present. 

(NOTE:  The  furniture  is  a  mixture  of  the  old  and 
new,  as  though  showing  two  elements  in  the 
house.  Mahogany  two  hundred  years  old  is 
mixed  here  and  there  with  smart  modern  fur- 
niture, making  a  combination  that,  while  rich 
and  comfortable,  would  cause  a  modern  decor- 
ator to  expire  in  a  delirium  of  horror.  But 
everything  shows  wealth  and  position  and  every 
piece,  taken  individually,  is  in  good  taste.) 

One  large  rug  or  various  small  rugs  on  floor. 

One  library  table  up  c.,  running  L.  and  R.    Books  and 

papers  on  same. 
One   heavy   upholstered   davenport    down   stage  in 

front  of  table,  facing  audience. 
Two  cushioned  window-seats  in  window  L. 
Two  pair  of  curtains  and  draperies  for  window  L. 
One  small  table  down  L. 
One  armchair  K. 
One  armchair  down  L. 


CIVILIAN  CLOTHES  iai 

One  small  straight  chair  below  table. 

One  armchair  up  L. 

One  handsome  two  or  three  wing  screen  up  stage  L. 
of  double  door  c. 

Carpet  on  stairs  off  stage  c. 

Rugs  on  floor  below  stairs. 

Bric-a-brac  here  and  there. 

Pictures  on  walls  (including  one  or  two  family  por- 
traits and  some  old-fashioned  old  paintings  of 
various  subjects). 

One  tea  wagon  off  stage  R.  with  teapot  (filled  with 
tea),  cream,  sugar,  four  cups,  four  saucers,  one 
plate  of  wafers  and  a  small  decanter  containing 
rum,  which  is  used  in  the  tea  instead  of  cream. 

One  small  silver  pocket  whiskey  flask  (filled)  for 
Billy  Arkwright. 

Three  small  coins  for  •  "matching"  for  Rutherford, 
Arkwright  and  the  General. 

One  fireplace  grate  down  c.,  facing  davenport. 

One  pair  old-fashioned  andirons  for  same. 

ACT  II 

The  Lanham  dining-room — an  old-fashioned  room 
with  a  conservatory  opening  off  back  through 
three  archways. 

NOTE  :  The  whole  effect  of  the  room  should  be 
heavy,  old-fashioned  and  rich. 

ACT  III. 

One  of  the  parlors  in  the  Hotel  Grunewald,  New 
Orleans. 

Room  is  furnished  with  the  typical  hotel  parlor  fur- 
niture. 

One  rug  on  floor. 


132  CIVILIAN  CLOTHES 

One  old-fashioned  white  marble  mantel  on  L.  (orna- 
ments on  same). 

One  sofa  above  fireplace  halfway  facing  it. 

One  table  in  center  of  room. 

One  small  taboret  up  right  above  double  door. 

One  potted  palm  or  fern  on  same. 

Two  small  straight  chairs,  one  arm  chair — to  dress 
stage. 

Curtains  drawn  on  windows  at  back. 

Two  suitcases  for  bellhop  off  left  (one  marked  "F. 
L."  the  other  "W.A.") 

Two  bags  (more  or  less  weather-beaten  and  belong 
to  McGinnis,  Sr.)  off  left  for  bellhop. 

Money  for  tip  for  Florence. 

One  daily  paper  for  Hart. 

One  dollar  for  Hart. 

Two  cigars  for  Hart. 


COME  OUT  OF  THE  KITCHEN 

A  charming  comedy  in  8  acts.  Adapted  by  A.  E.  Thomas 
from  the  story  of  the  came  name  bj  Alice  Duer  Miller. 
6  males,  5  females.  3  interior  scenes.  Costumes,  modern. 
Plays  2%  hours. 

The  itory  of  "Coma  Out  of  the  Kitchen"  (s  written  around  a 
Virginia  family  of  the  old  aristocracy,  by  the  name  of  Dninger- 
fleld,  who,  finding  themselves  temporarily  embarrassed,  decide  to 
rent  their  magnificent  home  to  a  rich  Yankee.  One  of  the  con- 
ditions of  the  lease  by  the  well-to-do  New  Englander  stipulates 
that  a  competent  staff  of  white  servants  should  be  engaged  for 
his  sojourn  at  the  stately  home.  This  servant  question  present! 
practically  insurmountable  difficulties,  and  one  of  the  daughters 
of  the  family  conceives  the  mad-cap  idea  that  she,  her  sister  and 
their  two  brothers  shall  act  as  the  domestic  staff  for  the  wealthy 
Yankee.  Olivia  Dalngerfield.  who  is  the  ringleader  in  the  merry 
scheme,  adopts  the  cognomen  of  Jane  Allen,  and  elects  to  preside 
over  the  destinies  of  the  kitchen.  Her  sister,  Elizabeth,  is  Ap- 
pointed housemaid.  Her  elder  brother,  Paul,  is  the  butler,  and 
Charley,  the  youngest  of  the  group,  is  appointed  to  the  position  of 
bootboy.  When  Burton  Crane  arrives  from  the  North,  accom- 
panied by  Mrs.  Faulkner,  her  daughter,  and  Crane's  attorney. 
Tucker,  they  find  the  staff  of  servants  to  possess  so  many  methods 
of  behavior  out  of  the  ordinary  that  amusing  complications  begin 
to  arise  immediately.  Olivia's  charm  and  beauty  impress  Crane 
above  everything  else,  and  the  merry  story  continues  through  • 
maze  of  delightful  incidents  until  the  real  identity  of  the  heroine 
is  finally  disclosed.  But  not  until  Crane  has  professed  his  love 
for  his  charming  cook,  and  the  play  ends  with  the  brightest 
prospects  of  happiness  for  these  two  young  people.  "Come  Out 
of  the  Kitchen,"  with  Ruth  Chatterton  In  the  leading  rAle.  made 
e  notable  success  on  its  production  by  Henry  Miller  at  the  Cohan 
Theatre,  New  York.  It  was  also  a  great  success  at  the  Strand 
Theatre,  London.  A  most  ingenious  and  entertaining  comedy, 
and  we  strongly  recommend  it  for  amateur  production.  (Royalty, 
twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  7ft  Cents, 

GOING   SOME 

Play  in  4  acts.  By  Paul  Armstrong  and  Bex  Beach. 
12  males,  4  females.  2  exteriors,  1  interior.  Costumes, 
modern  and  cowboy.  Plays  a  full  evening. 

Described  by  the  authors  es  the  "chronicle  of  a  certain  lot  of 
college  men  and  girli,  with  a  tragic  strain  of  phonograph  and 
cowboys."  A  rollicking  good  story,  full  of  action,  atmosphere, 
comedy  and  drama,  redolent  of  the  adventurous  spirit  of  youth. 
(Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
Yew  and  Explicit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Mailed  Free  oa  Request 


RQLLYANNA 


"The  glad  play,"  ia  8  acts.  By  Catherine  CMshohn 
Oushing.  Based  on  the  novel  by  Eleanor  H.  Porter.  5 
males,  6  females.  2  interiors.  Costumes,  modern.  Plays 
2%  hours. 

The  story  has  to  do  with  the  experiences  of  aa  orphan  fM 
^rho  is  thrust,  unwelcome,  into  the  home  of  a  maiden  aunt.  la 
spite  of  the  tribulations  that  beset  her  life  she  manages  to  find 
something  to  be  glad  about,  and  brings  light  into  sunless  lives. 
Finally,  Pollyanna  straightens  oat  the  love  affairs  of  her  elders, 
snd  last,  but  not  least,  finds  happiness  for  herself  in  the  heart 
of  Jimmy.  "Pollyanna"  is  a  glad  play  and  one  •which  is  bound 
to  give  one  a  better  appreciation  of  people  and  the  world.  It 
reflects  the  humor,  tenderness  and  humanity  that  gare  the  story 
•uch  wonderful  popularity  among  young  and  old. 

Produced  at  the  Hudson  Theatre,  New  York,  and  for  two  sea* 
sons  on  tour,  by  George  C.  Tyler,  with.  Helen  Hayes  in  the  part 
01  "Pollyanna."  (Royalty,  twenty-fire  dollars.)  Price.  75  Cents. 


THE   CHARM  SCHOOL 

A  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  Alice  Duer  Miller  and  Robert 
Hilton.  6  males,  10  females  (may  be  played  by  5  males 
and  8  females).  Any  number  of  school  girls  may  be  used 
in  the  ensembles.  Scenes,  2  interiors.  Modern  costumes. 
Plays  2%  hours. 

Vhe  story  of  "The  Charm  School"  is  familiar  to  Mrs.  Miller's 
readers.  It  relates  the  adventures  of  a  handsome  young  auto- 
mobile salesman,  scarcely  out  of  his  'teens,  who,  upon  inheriting 
a  girls'  boarding-school  from  a  maiden  aunt,  Insists  on  running  it 
himself,  according  to  his  own  ideas,  chief  of  which  is,  by  the 
•way,  that  the  dominant  feature  in  the  education  of  the  young 
girls  of  to-day  should  be  CHARM.  The  situations  that  arise  are 
teeming  with  humor — clean,  wholesome  humor.  In  the  end  the 
young  man  gives  np  the  school,  and  promises  to  wait  until  the 
most  precocious  of  his  pupils  reaches  a  marriageable  age.  Tht 
play  has  the  freshness  of  youth,  the  inspiration  of  an  extravagant 
bnt  novel  idea,  the  charm  of  originality,  and  the  promise  of  whole- 
Borne,  sanely  amusing,  pleaeant  entertainment.  We  strongly  rec- 
ommend it  for  high  school  production.  It  was  first  produced  at 
the  Bijou  Theatrt,  New  York,  then  toured  the  country.  Two 
companies  are  now  playing  it  in  England.  (Royalty,  twenty-five 
dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  23  West  45th  Street,  Hew  York  City 
and  Explicit  DescriptiYe  Catalogue  Mailed  Fre«  on  E*qu*rt 


TWEEDLES 

Comedy  In  £  acts,  by  Booth  Tarkington  and  Harry  Leon 
vTilsoa.    6  male*,  4  femalse.    1  interior.    Costumes,  modern. 
>4  hourt. 


Jnlisin,  acton  of  the  blue-blooded  Castleburys,  fall*  in  love  with 
,ra  Tweedle,  daughter  of  the  oldest  family  in  a  Maine  village. 
The  Tweedles  esteem  the  name  because  it  has  been  rooted  in 
the  community  for  200  year*,  and  they  look  down  on  "summer 
people"  vith  the  vigor  that  orly  "summer  boarder"  communities 
know. 

The  Castleburys  are  aghast  at  the  possibility  of  a  match,  and 
call  on  the  Tweedles  to  urge  how  impossible  such  an  alliance  would 
be.  Mr.  Custlebury  laboriously  explains  the  barrier  of  social 
caste,  and  the  elder  Tweedle  takes  it  that  these  unimportant 
summer  folk  are  terrified  at  the  social  eminence  of  the  Tweedles, 

Tweedle  generously  agrees  to  co-operate  with  the  Castleburys 
to  prevent  the  natch.  But  Winsora  brings  her  father  to  realize 
that  in  reality  the  Castleburys  look  npon  them  as  inferiors.  The 
old  man  is  infuriated,  and  threatens  vengeance,  but  is  checkmated 
•when  Julian  unearths  a  number  of  family  skeletons  and  argnei 
that  father  isn't  a  Tweedle,  since  the  blood  has  been  so  diluted 
that  little  remains.  Also,  Winsora  takes  the  matter  into  her  own 
hands  and  outfaces  the  old  man.  80  the  youngsters  go  forth 
triumphant.  "Tweedles"  is  -Booth  Tarkington  at  bis  beak. 
(Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price.  76  Cent*. 


JUST  SUPPOSE 

A  whimsical  comedy  in  3  acts,  by  A.  E.  Thomas,  author 
of  "Her  Husband's  Wife,"  "Come  Out  of  the  Kitchen, " 
etc.  6  males,  2  females.  1  interior,  1  exterior.  Costumes, 
modern.  Plays  2%  hours. 

It  was  rumored  that  during  his  last  visit  the  Prince  of  WalM 
appeared  for  a  brief  spell  nnder  an  assumed  name  somewhere  in. 
"Virginia.  It  is  on  this  story  that  A.  E.  Thomas  based  "Just 
Suppose."  The  theme  is  handled  in  an  original  manner.  Linda 
Lee  Stafford  meets  oua  George  Shipley  (in  reality  Is  the  Princt 
of  Wales).  It  is  a  case  of  love  at  first  sight,  but,  alas,  princes 
cannot  select  their  mates  and  thereby  hangs  a  tale  which  Mr. 
Thomas  has  woven  with  infinite  charm.  The  atmosphere  of  the 
Eouth  with  its  chivalry  dominates  the  story,  touching  in  it* 
sentiment  snd  lightened  here  and  there  with  delightful  comedy. 
"Ju5t  Suppose"  scored  a  big  hit  at  the  Henry  Miller  Theatre, 
New  York,  with  Patricia  Collinje.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollarm.) 

Price,  75  Cent*. 

SAMUEL  FBENCH.  25  West  46th  Street,  New  York  City 
W«w  and  Explicit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Mailed  Free  on 


•MRS.  WIGGS  OF   THE 
CABBAGE  PATCH 

Dramatization  in  3  acts,  by  Anne  Crawford  Flexner  from 
the  novel  bj  Alice  Hegan  Bice.  15  males,  11  females. 

1  interior,  1  exterior.    Costumes  modern  and  rustic.    Plays 
a  full  evening. 

A  capital  dramatization  of  the  ever-beloved  Mrs.  \Viggs  and 
Jber  friends,  people  who  have  enttred  the  hearts  and  minds  of  a 
nation.  Mri.  Schultz  and  Lovey  Mary,  the  pessimistic  Miss  Hazy 
and  the  others  need  no  new  introduction.  Here  is  characteriza- 
tion, humor,  pathos,  and  what  is  best  and  most  appealing  in 
modern  American  life.  The  amateur  acting  rights  are  reserved 
for  the  present  in  all  cities  and  towns  where  there  are  stock 
companies.  Royalty  will  be  quoted  on  application  for  those  cities 
•ad  towns  where  it  may  be  presented  by  amateurs. 

Price,  76  Cents. 

THE  FOUR-FLUSHER 

Comedy  in  3  acts.    By  Caesar  Dunn.    8  males,  5  females. 

2  interiors.    Modern  costumes.     Plays  2V4  hours. 

A  comedy  of  hustling  American  youth,  "The  Four-Flusher"  is 
one  of  those  clean  and  bright  plays  which  reveal  the  most  appeal- 
ing characteristics  of  our  native  types.  Here  is  an  amusing  story 
of  a  young  shoe  clerk  who  through  cleverness,  personality,  and 
plenty  of  wholesome  faith  in  himself,  becomes  a  millionaire.  The 
play  is  best  described  as  "breezy."  It  is  full  of  human  touches, 
and  develops  a  most  Interesting  story.  It  may  be  whole-heartedly 
recommended  to  high  schools,  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.) 

Price,  75  Cents. 

PALS  FIRST 

Comedy  in  a  prologue  and  3  acts.  By  Lee  Wilson  Dodd. 
8  males,  3  females.  1  interior,  1  exterior.  Modern  cos- 
tumes. Plays  2%  hours. 

Based  on  the  successful  novel  of  the  same  name  by  F.  P. 
Elliott,  "Pals  First"  is  a  decidedly  picturesque  mystery  play. 
Danny  and  the  Dominie,  a  pair  of  tramps,  enter  a  mansion  and 
persuade  the  servants  and  friends  that  they  belong  there.  They 
are  not  altogether  wrong,  though  it  requires  the  intervention  o/ 
a  judge,  two  detectives,  a  villain  and  an  attractive  girl  to  tin- 
tangle  the  complications.  A  most  ingenious  play,  well  adapted 
to  performance  by  high  schools  and  colleges.  (Royalty,  twenty- 
five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Centf. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  85  Wast  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
Srsr  and  Explicit  Descriptive  OaUlogne  Hailed  Free  on  Bennett 


NOT  SO  LONG  AGO 

Comedy  in  a  Prologue,  8  acts,  and  Epilogm  By  Arthur 
Rlchman.  6  males,  7  females.  2  interior*.  1  exterior. 
Costumes,  1870.  Plays  a  full  evening. 

Arthur  Richman  has  constructed  hit  play  around  the  Cinderella 
legend.  The  playwright  has  shown  treat  wisdom  in  his  choice 
of  material,  for  he  has  cleverly  crossed  the  Cinderella  them* 
with  a  strain  of  Romeo  and  Juliet.  Mr.  Richman  places  his 
young  lovers  in  the  picturesque  New  York  of  forty  yean  ago. 
This  time  Cinderella  is  a  seamstress  in  the  home  of  a  social 
climber,  who  may  have  been  the  first  of  her  kind,  though  we 
doubt  it.  She  is  interested  sentimentally  in  the  son  of  this  house. 
Her  father,  learning  of  her  infatuation  for  the  young  man  without 
learning  also  that  it  is  imaginary  on  the  young  girl's  part,  starts 
out  to  discover  his  intentions.  He  is  a  poor  Inventor.  The 
mother  of  the  youth,  ambitious  chiefly  for  her  children,  shud- 
ders at  the  thought  of  marriage  for  her  son  with  a  sewing-girl. 
But  the  Prince  contrives  to  put  tho  slipper  on  the  right  foot,  and 
the  end  is  happiness.  The  play  is  quaint  and  agreeable  and  the 
three  acts  are  rich  In  the  charm  of  love  and  youth.  (Royalty, 
twenty -five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 


THE  LOTTERY   MAN 

Comedy  in  3  acts,  by  Rida  Johnson  Young.  4  males, 
8  females.  3  easy  interiors.  Costumes,  modern.  Play* 
2%  hours. 

la  "The  Lottery  Man"  Rida  Johnson  Young  has  seized  upon 
•  custom  of  some  newspapers  to  increase  their  circulation  by 
clever  schemes.  Mrs.  Young  has  made  the  central  figure  in  her 
famous  comedy  a  newspaper  reporter,  Jack  Wright.  Wright  owes 
his  employer  money,  and  he  agrees  to  turn  in  one  of  the  most 
sensational  scoops  the  paper  has  ever  known.  His  idea  is  to 
conduct  a  lottery,  with  himself  as  the  prize.  The  lottery  is  an- 
nounced. Thousands  of  old  maids  buy  coupons.  Meantime  Wright 
falls  in  love  with  a  charming  girl.  Naturally  he  fears  that  he 
may  be  won  by  someone  else  and  starts  to  get  as  many  tickets 
as  his  limited  means  will  pt-rmit.  Finally  the  laat  day  is  an- 
nounced. The  winning  number  is  1323.  and  is  held  by  Lixsle, 
an  old  maid,  in  the  household  of  the  newspaper  owner.  Lissle 
refuses  to  give  up.  It  is  discovered,  however,  that  aha  has  stolen 
the  ticket.  With  this  clue,  the  reporter  threatens  her  with  arrest. 
Of  course  the  coupon  is  surrendered  and  Wright  gets  the  girl  of 
his  choice.  Produced  at  the  Bijou  Theater,  New  York,  with 
great  success.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Gents. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  26  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
Hew  and  Explicit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Mailed  Free  on  Kequee* 


KICK  IN 


jfury  in  4  act*.  By  Wlll&rd  Mack.  7  males,  8  females. 
8  Interiors,  Modern  costumes.  Plays  £%  hours. 

"Kick  In"  t«  the  latest  of  the  rery  few  available  mystery 
plays.  Like  "Within  the  Law,"  "Seven  Keys  to  Baldpate," 
"The  Thirteenth  Chair,"  and  "In  the  Next  Boom,"  it  is  on* 
of  those  thrillers  which  are  accurately  described  as  "not  having 
•  dull  moment  in  it  from  beginning  to  end."  It  is  a  play  with 
all  the  ingredients  of  popularity,  not  at  all  difficult  to  set  or  to 
act;  the  plot  carries  it  along,  and  the  situations  are  built  with 
that  skill  and  knowledge  of  the  theatre  for  which  Willard  Mack 
ii  known.  An  Ideal  mystery  melodrama,  for  high  schools  and 
college*.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 


TILLY  OF   BLOOMSBURY 

("Happy -Go-Lucky.")  A  comedy  in  3  acts.  By  Tan 
Eay.  9  males,  7  females.  2  interior  scenes.  Modern 
dress.  Plays  a  full  evening. 

Into  an  aristocratic  family  conies  Tilly,  lovable  and  youthful, 
with  ideas  end  manners  which  greatly  upset  the  circle.  Tilly 
is  so  frankly  honest  that  she  makes  no  secret  of  her  trs- 
nendons  affection  for  the  yonng  son  of  the  family;  this  bring*  her 
Into  many  difficulties.  But  her  troubles  have  a  joyous  end  in 
charmingly  blended  scene*  of  sentiment  and  humor.  This  comedy 
presents  an  opportunity  for  fine  acting,  handsome  stage  settings, 
aad  beautiful  cottamiaff.  (Royalty,  twenty-fir*  dollars.) 

Price,  78  0*nt(. 


BILLY 

Farce-comedy  In  3  acts.  By  George  Cameron.  JO  males, 
5  females.  (A  few  minor  male  parts  can  be  doubled,  mak- 
ing the  cast  7  males,  5  females.)  1  exterior.  Costumes, 
•modern.  Plays  2%.  hours. 

The  action  of  the  play  takes  place  on  the  S.  S.  "Florida," 
bound  for  Havana.  The  story  has  to  do  with  the  disappearance  of 
4  set  of  false  teeth,  which  creates  endless  complications  among 
passengers  and  crew,  and  furnishes  two  and  a  quarter  hours  of 
the  heartiest  laughter.  One  of  the  funniest  comedies  produced  in 
the  last  dozen  years  on  the  American  stage  is  "Billy"  (some- 
times called  "Billy's  Tombstones"),  in  which  the  late  Sidney 
Drew  achieved  a  hit  in  Now  York  and  later  toured  the  country 
several  times.  (Royalty,  twenty-five  dollars.)  Price,  75  Cents. 

SAMUEL  FBENCH,  25  West  45th  Street,  New  York  City 
Sew  and  Explicit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Mailed  Free  OB 


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Cost 


000112721     6 


FRENCH'S 
Standard  Library  Edition 


George   M.    Cohan 
Winotaell    Smith 
Booth    Tarkington 
William   Gillette 
Frank  Craven 
Owen    Davis 
Austin    Strong 

Milne 

Harriet  Ford 
Pattl  Green 
James  Montgomery 
Arthur    Ricbman 
Philip  Barry 
George   Mid  die  ton 
Charming   Pollock 
George    Kaufman 
Martin   Fi 
Victor  Mapes 
Kate  Douglas  Wiggin 
Rida   Johnson    Young 
Margaret   Mayo 
Roi  Cooper  Megrue 
Jean  Webster 
George   Broadhurst 
George  Hobart 
Frederick  S.    Isham 
Fred,  Ballard 
P«rty    MacKayc 
Willard    Mack 
Jerome  K.  Jerome 
R.  C.  Carton 
^illiam  Cary  Duncan 
Sir  Arthur  Conan  Doyle 


Includes  Play*  by 

Augustus   Thomas 
Rachel  Crothers 
W.   W.  Jacobs 
Ernest   Denny 
Kenyoti    Nicholson 
Aaron    Hoffman 
ft.  V.  Esmond 
Edgar  Selwyn 
Laurence   Housman 
Israel    Zangwill 
Walter  Hackett 
A.  E.  Thomas 
Edna   Ferber 
John   Henry   Mears 
Mark  Swan 
John    B.   Stapleton 
Frederick    Lonsdale 
Bryon  Ongley 
Rex   Beach 
Paul  Armstrong 
H.   A.    Du   Souchet 
George  Ade 
J.  Hartley  Manners 
Barry   Conners 
Edith 

Harold    Brigbouse 
Harvey    J.    O'Higglns 
Clare   Kummer 
James  Forbes 
William    C.    DeMille 
Thompson   Buchanan 
C.    Haddon    Chambers 
Richard  Harding  Davis 


George   Kelly 
Louis   N.   Parker 
Anthony   Hop* 
Lewis  Beach 
Guy  Bolton 
Edward    E.    Rose 
Marc  Conr 
Frederick   Pauldlng 
Lynn   Starling 
Clyde  Fitch 
Earl   Derr   Bigger* 
Thomas   Broadhorst 
Charles    klein 
Bayard   Veiller 
Grace    L.    Furniss 
Martha    Morton 
Robert   Housum 
Carlisle  Moore 

.:ry    Field 
Leo   Dietricbsteln 
Harry  James  Smith 
Eden   Phlllpotts 
Brandon   Tynan 
Clayton   Hamilton 
Edward  Sheldon 
Richard  Ganthooy 
Julie  Lippman 
Paul   Dickey 
Frank  Bacon 
Edward   Paulton 
Adelaide   Matthews 
A.   E.  W.  Mason 
Cosme  Gordon- 


Catherine  Chisholm  Gushing  J.  C.  and  Elliott  Nugent 
Edward  Childs  Carpenter  Justin  Huntley  McCarthy 
Madeline  Lucette  Ryley  Josephine  Preston  Peabedy 

French's    International    Copyrighted    Edition    contain*    plays, 
and  farces  of  international  reputation;  also  recent  professienal  s«e«««ec* 
by   famous    American   and    English    Autbers. 


SAMUEL  FRENCH 

Oldest    Play    Publisher    in    the    World 
West   45th    Street,  NEW    YORK    CITY 


